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83 lines
2.1 KiB
Plaintext
83 lines
2.1 KiB
Plaintext
prepari
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2019-03-05
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***
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tell me a story, midnight hands:
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from whence you came?
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and how did it feel
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when you shattered the sky
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intent on beginning again?
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your decisions I rue
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my judgement is marked false
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and you laugh at me now
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and ignore all my pained calls
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who was I ever, anyway?
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just a sick puppet in the back rows
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while you danced on stage
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an architect to both of our destructions
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so many nights, I lulled myself to sleep with dreams
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of being in a hospital bed, succumbed to the mercy of the knife
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my brain, with thoughts of a better future rife
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and a home near a lake where underneath bubbles teem
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midnight hands, instead of your customary way,
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there's something to you that I need to say.
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the muses pull me to cleave the night
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and leave this world unseen,
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but my work on this coil is not yet complete
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I thus mar my hands unclean
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to disappear, to forget, to bathe in the waters of Lethe
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but not everything in this damn world is as it seems
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five years of construction, undone by a night's drunken folly
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but already I've exhausted my long-deserved sorrys
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for what can you do when you're chained up on stage
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and whipped until the whole ocean's your grave?
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naught left to do but disappear into the foam
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and hope that whatever lingers above deems you worthy to roam
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"Why do you pain me so?"
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you have the gall to take my hand,
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to intertwine your fingers in mine,
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as I sit here alone in my room
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your head on my shoulder,
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your arm against mine,
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as you await my impending doom
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"Did you think, for a second, I'd let you down?
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Take this cloak,
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take my hand,
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lest you fall to the ground.
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I love you; I'll hide you as long as you need.
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It's the least I can do so that we both can succeed."
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I wait with bated breath.
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the wind howls outside
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and I remember- we stepped out into the night,
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armed with the poisons of our fathers
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and the weight of the world on our shoulders
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you don't know who I am.
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but then again, has anybody?
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the frost on the ground,
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crunching underfoot as lamp posts stretch out our shadows
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without a single sound
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resisting the urge to keep our heads low
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not going gentle into that good night,
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always you and I, the dark and the light
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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