i.
there are those who roam asphodel
waiting for something, for nothing;
pawns of the gods' anger, caught in
the blasts when the explosions started:
the aoroi are collateral damage,
cheated of their full taste of life.
ii.
the biothanatoi are bitterness incarnate,
born of violent, bloody deaths.
they haunt the living, seeking solace,
recognition, revenge.
they are the spirits little children are taught to fear.
they are the spirits that do not rest until they are happy.
these spirits are never happy.
iii.
weeping women, howling men, spirits wrought from the misery,
from the fear of being unloved. they are bathed in
bitter tears that scald their intangible cheeks,
like an eternal punishment.
they scream silence at their loved ones,
unseen, unheard, soon forgotten.
the agamoi grieve for their unmarriages,
their not-yet families, their almost-love.
they have nothing left but dreams
that float down the styx like lost rings.
iv.
the hidden, the burned, the corpses never found.
the buried but not freed,
those who died alone,
those left ungrieved.
the ataphoi do not have graves,
do not have homes or families or friends.
they are angry, whirlwinds of rage and despair.
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burnt wings → myth poetry
Poetry"you think i'm not a goddess? try me. this is a torch song. touch me and you'll burn." -margaret atwood
