SPIRIT

Eternal contemplation,
my legacy,
a substanceless millstone
I trail through
this prison of fear, once
my safe haven...

There it rolls, the spectral
tide that washed
me onto the shores of this
island that dreamt of me.
Golden sands abraded,
obsidian shards flayed,
cast me into
blackness that
stifled me in its coils.

In my endless night, I hear
the first and last
drops of sunlight upon
fallow earth,
the sepulchral moan of the
wind through
ancient mists, the cry of
sleepless waters
from every rill and cavern.
 
A white-winged demon
chortles, breath of
Innocence on his acrid maw.
How they echo
his laughter! Others stop
their ears with gold,
shield their weary eyes,
an automaticity,
for his gifts of gilded silken
Gordian knots bind, blind.

Onward I trudge through
memories, through
the music of bygone flow,
over the sussurus
of turning leaves under a
bleeding moon,
beset by longing for the 
roads of the sky.
No earthly love could
succour those
the womb blighted.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

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