44 lines
702 B
Text
44 lines
702 B
Text
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ORACLE
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2020-11-01
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***
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a hand reaches out
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through the sands of time
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and you know not how
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or even a why
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but some long-unsettled
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beast prowls in your chest
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and you take the hand wary
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at its fervent behest
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and it pulls you through Void
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metaclysma, Abyss
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a sun-sunken world
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veiled by delicate mist
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there on the cliffs
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Kidasuna stands
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and asks you to hold out
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your scar-laden hands
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a book with torn pages
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and sentences severed
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paper edges curling from
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exposure to harsh weather
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who was I before the pangs
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of my malformed heart?
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who was I before the world
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deigned to tear me apart?
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the future is hazy
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like our surroundings
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and she cannot discern
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what lies ahead.
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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