Swansong

I found solace in glass and fire.

Without weight

the answer implanted in my psyche in a haze of purple.

My mouth quivered as a spider emerged from between my parted lips

and with it, disappeared my warmth.

Eyes cast aglow from depths unknown knowingly met mine

though there was nothing to be reflected upon aloud.

Mountainous though they were, the jagged peaks of my deception kept her alive.

It was plain to see her pain as she enshrouded her visage with her palms saying,

"I never should have come here."

By now the web had been strung up,

as if from the gallows,

with a rainbow of thread that shone with a light of its own.

It read Sorrow 

and my heart cried its return.

My swansong ended and in its place

a seed was planted, feeding from the infectious heat which radiated

from the walls of my cell.

Maturing together, I found solace in glass and fire.

Out!

winked the world in my eye and the peace I lacked

flowed as ink to its messenger.

Rather than accept the offering left in mystery,

the answer as treacherous as the widow's web,

I burnt that offering and was bathed in my sacrifices.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed