HAVEN

My astral body tiptoed through
the gradual crescendo 
of silence, as you cast your first
ever circle of happiness.
I smelled the dread beneath your 

practiced smile.

Here I stood, frozen in time. Your
blood seeded my cells
with life, my spirit with death, you
womb of shadows, of
penumbral mystery. What do these
tears portend, mother?

Why fear the grim dark you birthed?
Does it not conceal in
its ample, layered gathers the very 
carnage you wrought?
Does this revenant's muteness not 
dilate your courage?

And now, you would cast off these
robes you wove and
run into the embrace of the one who
denied you so cruelly.
The Grim Reaper has fled, your scent
repels him.

Reprisals rain down, the deluge beats
on your mortal bones.
Whom would you bait now? Your pleas
puncture the silence.
Would you dare drive a stake through
its beating heart, while
I fashion a soul from scars, tears and
an abiding death wish?

An inert shape floats upon a bloodless
sea, the movement of
pale waters lending it an appearance
of life. The final chapter 
looms large, our combined fates locked
into its time and space.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: LITTLE SPEEDWELL'S DARLING BLUE
Source: www.liveinternet.ru
Artist: John Everett Millais