Salem’s Childe – Prometheus

 

Advertisements

Starlight

15-066

Rain weary air
gives way to fire laden breath,
a soul escaping the confines of flesh
and set free in exhalation of thought;
into night on rising tides
of fluttering light crowned in autumn hues
it flies, upward to drift in an ocean of wonder
bedecked with jewels of every color,
each the keeper of a dream,
or a wish, some now long forgotten
but out there still, held safe in silent prayers
now tended by we who dream now
and tomorrow–and in that hope,
in the essence of gossamer strands
that bind souls together is found
that thing, that simplest of things
that makes you and I one:
for if from stars we are born,
then stars we must be,
light enduring before and after
we were born to darkness–
but darkness knows not itself
without the light to shine upon it,
and souls, as dreams, are that
formless fire of creation,
eternal and unyielding.

Taking the Black

Every mountain wears down,
every storm loses its power,
every fire dies.
And I, alone in my place
have endured all that I can,
and limits have overtaken all that I am–
what’s left is not enough of me,
and all there is now is pain
and scars that are not mine;
so grant me the black,
the peace of release,
the end of eternity,
and a night in Oblivion.

Burn

When dies the fire,
it should not be allowed
to dwindle into embers,
each fighting for its last breath,
for in this is sorrow,
the anguish of light and life
allowed to linger in pain,
and with it passion dies;
with mighty roar and
great flare should the fire
be allowed to die,
meeting its end as a warrior,
not as the poet who withers.