phoenixrising

  And today I awake  To a sun I’ve never known,  To a fragile, pervading darkness,  Where the light has never shone.  These young limbs and tender eyes,  Battle weary and bruised,  As the head hangs down over a tired chest,  The powers that be,    look on amused.  That fateful day that tore my flesh away  Relegated my soul to a mere shadow of day.  The cacophony of chants, of demands and slander  My dignity, through the wide river of judgement, to meander.  These accusations I’ve made with my mouth (and not my skin).  How could they possibly be proof of his sin?  These wounds inflicted, now ripped open and gape;  The serving of justice must bow to the politics of rape.  And I’m dragged, I’m carried, and bodily removed.  This final act of protest to be forgotten, and soon.  For he, who caused me harm, must prevail in this sun.  While I make my complaints to the indifferent moon....

  Unnao  Still.  Ever still.  This silent pain  Born of abuse and persistent strain.  Rage.  Ever rage.  Against a system of flaws  That shreds all hope, contradicts all laws Bitter.  Ever bitter.  The most delicate of buds to weather a storm,  To be mauled by demons of every face and form.  Numb.  Ever numb.  A labyrinth of loopholes designed to daunt,  No justice in sight, every crime meant to haunt.  Hope.  Ever hopeful.  For a sun-drenched dawn to drown the dark,  A final conclusion to this wretched, evil arc.  Prayer.  Ever praying.  For an end to this tyranny and shame.  The devil to be defeated at the end of the game. 

The art of the spy  Does not in conversation lie.  The moving mouth must make way  For the keen ear to hear what you say.   A furtive glance, a pregnant pause,  All used to glean effect and its true cause.  No code unbreakable, no secret safe  No silent missives to take to the grave.  A gentle stutter and Freudian slips,  Shall be coaxed from your red, determined lips…  A loophole, a gap, an involuntary leak,  Your heavy perfume cannot mask the reek… Of the ugly truth in all its glory,  Cooperate, or you will be truly sorry.  The martini and seduction routine is fair  But there is so much more, one could dare  As these unfortunate villains are soon made aware;  At the end of the day, Bond simply doesn’t care. 

  And it seems,  That this verdant dream,  Must come to an end,  To unholy power it must bend.  Rolling and weaving  And gently undulating,  Crafted by the earth  From its molten hearth.  A billion years, have I stood  As a silent sentinel would,  As civilisations rise and fall,  As time continues its steady crawl,  Towards an unknown end  Untimely eclipses do portend; This chapter must close,    and soon,  The earth must blister under the helpless moon.  These ancient curves must now fold, These tired, old limbs now sold  No more sacred to my people,  What good is old rock in the face of mined gold? 

  And when you fall apart at the seam;  Of who do you dream?  those voiceless monsters,  When around you they teem?  Who do you call to muffle your scream?  And when those voices die down,  Who helps you adjust your crown?  When the city finally sleeps,  And silence engulfs the town,  Who is it that fashions a smile from your frown?  This soul within a body,  Cannot be easily found.  Until you look in the mirror  And hear the echoes of its sound … 

  Liquid fog that clouds my vision,  Or is it just my acid tears?  They no longer bother me, I thought.  Buried with everything I fear…  The power of life - of giveth and taketh  No longer the decision of a flawed lord,  To birth and nurture is well and good  Yet its mundaneness makes me terribly bored.  My joy lies not in your amiable smile  I dig much deeper; to your bones and blood I’d rather release the little red corpuscles  And watch the flow turn into a  heavy flood.  The floors, when stained with dark red and matted brown,  Is where I’d gladly walk barefoot and proud, The silence that follows the release of a soul Such a relief from the ordinary and the loud…  The first time is always difficult, they say,  To put your fingers around living flesh and squeeze,  Yet it’s a service I’d performed gladly enough;  A true benediction I’d receive on my knees…  Those fundamental flaws in your so...

  And I shed my skin .  You burn away these mortal layers,  Even as the skies grow greyer And I shed my fears .  As your skin breathes into mine  And these limbs, they curve and intertwine.   And I shed this bony cage .  The bone-white and tired tissues now laid bare  For this passion demands an answering prayer.  And I shed these veins of red .  The cold and cruelty outside my window,    now gone.  as I lay in your arms, on an early December morn.  And I shed this last barrier I yield and I succumb to your insidious heat,  And hear my heart reply, with its intense passionate beat…  All yours, I am now.  This body, heart and soul.  And I’m gladly engulfed by your darkness,   the warmth you give in exchange,   for the life that you stole…