I won’t ask for your hand
It’s not how I’m made
To ask for anything
Even as I hold the Reliquary
I ask not for even your hand

A turn of the clocks arms
an eternity they chase each other
Never to be in the other’s embrace
To request such
rarely crosses my lips
for it falls often on deaf ears

A game of facades to hide
The aching and constant
self degradation
Lessons learned most harshly
Scoff not, dear one
For you are the same as I
The common bond wider


Survival is not a choice
It’s an imperative
Ingrained, when I’d rather lie down
in the Clearing and wait for
The Reaper or A Gunslinger
To end my days
To take the cup from my lips
Carry me home, whether to
Greener pastures full of light
Or the Beautiful Darkness
Full of Fire, Full of Night

The Reaper comes not
Her Scythe screams not a note
Gunslingers exist no more
Only the ghost of a memory
to my regret


This day I open my eyes yet again
Curse the light, yearn for the
Cimmerian Shadows
They that cover and hide
A small riddle their only requirement
Should I answer true
My desire granted,
Sweet indentured servitude
to Collector of Souls
Should I not
The light shall envelope and embrace
it’s promise the exquisite pain
of final reward

Life goes on. And so shall I.

Death Maiden

Kiss of Death

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3 thoughts on “Cerebration

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  1. Oh sis…*sniff* I felt every word and I’m living it. You always seem to look in my heart from afar and pull out my heartache and put it down in the most beautiful haunting words! Thank you for your eloquence and your beautiful heart! Xoxo

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