Tuesday, 9 December 2014


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

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