Pyrrhic Victories

I dig my grave slower now, you know; Or,
Perhaps the speed of time is what has changed.
For I admit it takes a lot more things
To fill up the same four dimensions of space.

Could be a manufacturing defect,
The Lord knows I have an ark load of those;
But I always thought I’d hit rock bottom
All those lovely, colorful years ago.

You remember those days, don’t you, my dear?
The skies, wind and fire, the rain and desire?
Breathe, I jest; I know you have forgotten
And it’s my lone burden to light this pyre.

A requiem for a thought, more than a dream
Ah, we were not who I once thought we were
Still, I found us good, beautiful and true
Forgive my soul, Father, for I have erred.

Seeing things in one particular way,
We are both victorious, you could say in wisdom
Though I can’t help but wonder on good Fridays,
Whether your space tastes half as hollow as my freedom.

The First Sonnet: Words in Vain

Note: My first attempt at writing in an Iambic pentameter. Phew, that was hard. Fun, but hard. Inspired loosely by the Dune series. As in, I had Lady Jessica in my mind a lot when I was writing this… Muad’Dib’s mother.. Don’t know why.. :\

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The words I know, and moments sunk in time

cannot suffice to mend this burning sphere

For I am lost in words that no more rhyme

and ghosts of people who were never here

It scares me that this world is changed to fire,

A desert fuelled by hate and crude despair

And all of these betrayals leave me tired

Cannot one see how hard I tried to care?

May I tell you a secret? We could stay;

and I could swear to never speak of Rain

Within your deep embrace I’d find escape,

Though we both know I bleed these words in vain,

For there is little you would have me say

And I love you in ways words can’t explain.

Avenging Expectations

Dated: Mid 2013

I know that you expect

Songs of vengeance and fire

Clinging complaints of neglect

But, my love, I am tired..

.

I know you still expect

Accusations of cruelty

But pleading for attention

Has never been my specialty

.

I could clutch at your hand

and keep asking you why

I could say I still cared

And I could try and cry

.

But, baby, if you want me gone,

Well then, tell me, who am I?

Who am I to ask to stay?

Baby, who am I to ask why?

.

And I could chase some fantasy

And hope that half of it comes true

Or maybe find the man of my dreams

Except on nights I dream of you

.

And in the midst of all your fire

I crave only to burn

Like a torch to some inner darkness

That only I have earned

.

And I would make my way to you

Come rain-storms or hell-fire

Not for empty words

Only all my form desires

.

And if you asked me to leave

I would pack my bags and go

Live out forgotten fantasies

Hidden behind some nameless door

.

Maybe I’d even forget

The sound of your voice

Pretend that when I was leaving

You gave me no choice

.

And maybe I’d forget you too

Though I hope it isn’t so

Or cry into rainy nights

While he holds my body close

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And I cannot help but wonder

Whether his skin, too, would be smooth as ice

And I can’t help but wonder

If any other fire would ever suffice.

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You owe me nothing

And I owe nothing to you

And in this nothingness what we choose to give

Is all that must be true

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So if lessons and space are what I’ve earned

Tell me, of what shall I complain?

When I would give you my immortality

What price is mortal pain?

Molten

I cannot hold you in my hands anymore
Flowing out of my veins, like lava in flames
Shining like an intense ocean of red and gold
if I choose to burn, is it not only I who is to blame?

Though sometimes I still dream of that very first time
That my ice-cold soul felt the burn of your skin
Around your fingers, you wrapped my reeling mind
Leaving my edges on steam, and my core, molten.

And you should know I’ve been melting ever since
First in cracks that trickled, then in streams that screamed
And I wonder if you ever truly were the lost prince
Or simply a lord from some nightmarish tale I once dreamed.

My love, how can I follow you any further into this night?
When I know not the way through the depths of your mind
I set out following the treacherous moon and its light
Only to leave myself somewhere too far behind.

And now the embers falling from my skin
from all the places we have touched
are all I have to light my way of sin
Not enough, but always too much

I like to believe I’ll catch up with you sometime
Before going up in flames, or melting out of sight
And if being too weak to help you was my only crime
Then I hope at least my pyre provides you with light.

 

Bleeding Light

In the arch of her back,
At the corner of his mind,
With all the things they have lost
and dare not hope to find
lies one last chance at redemption
flickering slowly out of sight
But he resolutely faces the other way,
while she stands, blinded by the light.

It was so much brighter once,
before her eyes grew used to this dark
whilst he nourished the flame as long as he could,
until the constant vigilance left its mark
And now he stands, unmoved, decided,
even as she begs him to reconsider
As the flame of all that once was lies dying,
promising to leave them both embittered.

Why won’t he listen? Why won’t he save it?
Girl, wipe those questions of grief off your face
What you weep for is long long gone
nor will this once raging fire leave a trace.
Except that scar, around your heart,
where the wire cut you deepest
There is no shame in falling down,
when the height you chose was the steepest.

I know you won’t stop wishing for miracles,
nor stop needing the way he breathes
I wish I could show you the truth,
because, in the end, everyone leaves.
But you know that, my dearest girl,
Isn’t that why you bleed yourself to sleep?
Ah, you’ll miss the pain when the numbness starts,
Remember not to go too deep.

In Love and War

“Get the fuck out of my fucking house.”

She shrunk away from him, turning away so he wouldn’t see the tears filling up her eyes. She needn’t have bothered, as a moment later, the door had slammed loud behind him, and his angry footsteps faded away from where she knelt. Her stifled cries turned to sobs, but only for a minute. Had she not cried enough for this? Had these stone floors not drunk enough of her tears?

She limped to the door, and bolted it from the inside. She was safe now, at least until he decided to return. She had to be gone before that, she thought dully. Gone somewhere far. Where he couldn’t find her.

The mob stormed the village, screaming obscenities and firing indiscriminately as they came. The villagers ran about in panic, many getting slaughtered in their futile attempts to protect their families and children. Shops and houses were set on fire, and the people seeking shelter inside were hunted down and killed as they ran from the burning buildings. An infant wailed endlessly somewhere in the distance. A dark haired boy darted across the burning streets, two younger children in tow, making his way towards the college at the center of their once-quiet settlement. The college of Magic. Abruptly the wailing infant fell silent, and the three children shuddered to think of what that meant.

A loud crash brought forth a strangled sob from her throat. Until she realized it was only their cat. It made its way over and licked her bruised knuckles. “Hey, kitty cat”, she whispered, stroking its soft fur. The cat purred and rubbed against her, and she thought of how they had first found the kitten. Alone and lost in the middle of a fierce thunderstorm, it had taken shelter under his car, meowing piteously until they had found her. At first, he had insisted that they leave it outside in a box, and she had managed to convince him to let it spend the remainder of the stormy night in a corner of his house. The next day she had come home from work to find him fast asleep on the sofa, with the kitten curled up on his chest, also asleep. They had been nearly inseparable since.

She shook her head, as if trying to clear it, and rose up to put out some food for the cat. That’s when she saw the flowers he must have brought home that morning, and her heart ached. Everything was so confusing. How did things get to this? When did they stop laughing at shadows and chasing falling stars?

The boy managed to reach the college grounds undetected, and pulled his young charges inside the gate. Here he stopped to catch his breath, and the two children looked about themselves in awe. Civilians were generally not allowed inside the campus of the infamous college of magic. Though the Council maintained that it was for their own safety, rumor had it that some of the students and teachers at the college dabbled in.. more than just the white arts.

“Alistair, take Nova to Professor Edward. He should be at the top of the North Tower. If anyone stops you, show them this.” Saying so, the older boy pushed a small rock into the younger boy’s hands, even as the young girl looked on, startled. “Nova,” he started, and she backed away from him. “That’s not my name”, she whispered, her eyes locked on to the parchment he held in his hand. “Listen to me, Nova”, he said, louder than he had intended. And now it was Alistair’s turn to watch as she backed further away from the older boy. “We’re not going in without you”, she said, looking past him and into the fires scattered just outside the gates. The older boy looked upset, and bowed his head. But when he looked up again, he was smiling. That made Nova begin to cry, and that made Alistair want to cry as well. But he held on to the rock in his hand tighter instead, and grit his teeth to help fight back the unwelcome tears. “I’ll be alright, Princess”, the dark haired boy assured her, and taking two steps forward, he suddenly knelt in front of her. “Please take the scroll”, he said, head bowed and hand outstretched. Nova hesitated, then reached out and plucked the parchment from his fingers. He looked up and smiled, and asked her to dry her eyes.

Light & Dark

The hungry raven screams into the night,
his eyes gleaming in the bright moonlight
The tired witch, she stumbles again
alone in a storm of hell-fire and rain
And the Angels that be, they fall and they rise
Even the ones, quite clearly, wolves in disguise
The World is a wicked place, and darkness threatens all
But may a hundred fires start, where even a spark should fall