INCERTITUDE

Here we gather, embattled spirits all,
where no laws hold sway.

Barbed words cleave an arch through 
this viscid blackness;

under their breath anguish kindles, its 
phantom glow trickles

through this yielding grey amassment,
so strangely soothing.

This light is my subject, my substance,
it's syrupy softness my

force and fuel. How its flush entrances!
How it brandishes its

beauty, sculpts my formlessness, strikes
root and flourishes!

A bitter draught I quaff, loath to break the
revels of imps dancing

about flaming petals, wraiths of hope and
faith tumbling in midair

through the half light. I stand alone, sister,
at our wake, children

the Sun forsook, my slain dreams wrapped
in silk, sigil of trespass,

in a casket beside yours, laid in a grave far
from this life, 
from Incertitude. 

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

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