LIFE
Here I linger, an uninvited guest
at this grand feast of brazen
blooms, of jade and gold, of black
blur and monotonous,
morbid motion.
Rejectamenta, this migratory spirit,
haunter of solitude, I reel into
the viscous, sentient air
imprinting the wisdom of ages
on my heartbeat.
Such grace and energy, mother,
between your hate and my blood!
Was it the one furnace that forged
these symbiotic compatriots?
Yes, long after the Sun consumes
Earth will this heady cocktail surge
through my absent veins, beat a
death wish upon a dead star.
The arc of Justice is long.
Your silence now flays Hell's walls
like blind doves welting my
misted window pane.
I seek my name in your grimoire.
Such grace and energy, mother,
between your hate and my blood!
Was it the one furnace that forged
these symbiotic compatriots?
Yes, long after the Sun consumes
Earth will this heady cocktail surge
through my absent veins, beat a
death wish upon a dead star.
The arc of Justice is long.
Your silence now flays Hell's walls
like blind doves welting my
misted window pane.
I seek my name in your grimoire.
Am I the Black Moon or an occulted
spark; a baneful bolide or
fragment of fate-haunted Dark?
I am Light slowed to matter
on a whim, craving a compass,
left holding death in its hand.
on a whim, craving a compass,
left holding death in its hand.
© 2014 Lily's Verse
Lilium Candidum
Image: ashleymae.deviantart.com
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