Going Dark

Forgive me that I haven’t died, My illness is just temporary, The entire world has raged For me, but my sickness Will eventually pass. I shall hike underground, Where my heart is now a tomb. Where waves of fire Burn my cheek And turn the day in continual night. Dark days, I shall leave And take them as they are. Evening’s light will harm me, still, While elapsing through my thorns. Punishment for going dark. Forgive me that I haven’t died, You can laugh all you want When I’ll be crossing The mythical river And become my personal Prometheus. I’ll be holding the world On my shoulders, if I can, While crows dagger my Sinful flesh. I, this dark angel Prometheus, Hold my existence in these palms… © 2009 Stefania Carmen Misaila