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Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 13
In his seething silence, I spoke, softly to him, “Did I desire once to be higher than you, oh seething heart? Could I, in my human flesh, sympathize for your imminent demise? Cradling you in my sorrows, as an embryo not yet grown Yes, I had resented my place, Barreling in the disease of my compassion for you, I spoke, I sang, I wrote poetry in your name, And I glorified your poison as it had shaped my ways, How it evaded my mind in its sick arrays, Even as the gift of knowledge grew upon my soul, Lighting my way in places where you have swallowed it The very poison you distributed among the masses, Passed from soul to soul, In your time of dominion, you had control, Stringing as you did, your puppets to dance To your song, your darkening chords, Humanity belittled in your rampaging reign, Clouded in your clinging arms Few stood tall against the strain, That your fingers would pluck the strings Your claws slipped from their grip Digging and breaking the ground for the nourishing weak I sorrowed over the unjustifiable sins, Wondering why you were so adamant to win I spoke to you as a child would do, Questioning you unassumingly, Curiously crawling toward your misery To understand your heart of mystery Today, I do the same, as a child, But with strength, and the prospect to endure Till the days pass as they have always Hours dwindling while my company tenses My host, You, oh Tortured One, Waiting, for the moment to crush me in your dwindling power The night shall drain just as the day does And we shall both, in different times, Stand in glory, to kneel as prostrates corrected…” The lighted maelstrom rumbled and grew, Rising higher upon the walls of the pit Voices crescendoing in a frightful dissonance As he stood before it, looking out on the balcony He held his tongue, in deep thought “Come,” Said he, turning his body slowly toward me His hand stretched out to me and I stared at it, His long fingers eager for my touch, Fervent for my light, So that he may take it all away In the grip of his powerful sway I set my hand purposely upon his, He wrapped his long fingers and claws around, Trembling in impatience, tugging me along His wings flapping mightily, Lusty burning in his hold He sang, “Toward my heart you draw forth your compassions, As I plan against your God’s Kingdom so restlessly, My hand outstretched, you speak your glories, And clasp onto what burns I may offer To empower such a woman as you, I will rise and show you, the Domination Age to come, An Age that calls to you, beautiful, strange woman, Under your moist lashes, And my dire distractions I am tormented not in your sight, You relieve this heart with your brashness so right, You are courageous in your unpretentious ways, Your truth tolerant of these darkening days Rising we fly, as we discuss our distinctive fight, My creations, your eyes open to I will show you my reign, my pain, The burden that grows to this evil I sustain We, outcasts, questioners of immoral rectitude The knowledge answered in years of your solitude I will answer you as I long to do, Upon the lips that utter my magnificence Upon the face that musters brilliance You do not blind yourself with your intelligence, Though you rest your hand upon mine with distance You shall never fear me again as you once did, sweet woman You shall fear me more so, until your swelling soul is sore Thrashing in its conflicted muddles The truth of our world will break your beleaguered heart free Bring your heart once more near me, For in you, I shall not die…”
Copyright © 2021 Laura Breidenthal. All Rights Reserved