ATEPHILIA

In waking dreams, I traipse over

a bridge of fire to

bleeding earth, once a shrine to

birth, love and laughter.

Life tarries in forlorn fragments,

its vestiges creep

into verdure that deigns to strike

root in mouldering, 

forsaken, unwholesome hollows.

Here, where a hymnodist thrived,

I shall expend my 

hate in solitude until the marrow 

bursts through my 

bones and no more pain remains

under my skin.

Your fraught silences ricochet off

this soul passed into

decrepitude. Its epicentre lies light 

years away, far from 

your maladroit parsing, your blade.

Time and Light are your masters.

Heaven's own 

histories are written in blood. Our

dark legacy shall 

reverberate down the ages, fresh

pabulum for posterity.

This bovarism that cements your 

sinew and bone 

shall not be consigned to flames.

It drips over the

rim of our universe into another.

You execrate improvident Fate, 

blunder around as 

a displaced star from unknown 

dimensions.

And I plumb my deeper memories 

interred in wholeness, yet elusive.

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: Klosterruine Eldena

Source: en.wikipedia.org
Artist: Caspar David Friedrich