Covenant
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* For my poetry sister CONSTANCE LA FRANCE, and all those who battle grief daily as we do. *
~
you …
are no god …
but even were you such
you would not be safe from my wrath
no amount of ones and
zeros could code your visage in
sufficient quantity
to squirrel you away from me -
no pulse or pinion or
dark matter
can dim your vile glare …
your bite drips red
each time you smile, wry and wide …
the black of your eye
betrays your heart’s ill intent
and while darkness may warm,
the light binds you
as I bind your many minions
with a cancer their own …
you are the dancer
and you are the dance, true
but I am the music -
your agency and your ruination
and I am deafening …
hear me - be still -
be still and know that
I am doom …
the garland on my brow
waits for your whitened knees
and folded hands
do you see?
do you find the horror of your
likeness in my eyes?
it is burning …
with a conflagration lit by
the casual carnage you wrought
upon my soul … my life -
everything I held most dear …
and I will be the endless reminder that
thrums in your ears
that you, oh exalted one -
no god are …
you.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, October 14, 2023
( This is a form I created called “Bookend Free Verse” )
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2023
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