Weeping, softly -
Baphomet, won't you hold me?
Hold me, I beg,
As you once did.
Hold me
And take what you will,
Give what you must;
Whisper,
Come closer and whisper aloud
As you translate
The distant murmur
Of the stars.
Won't you remind me
That you saved me;
Won't you please
Tell me why?
You held me, you knew
That nobody could love me
As much;
You knew, and now you watch
As I try to live, to grow;
To do what I never wanted to do.
I owe it to you to stay alive,
But it pains me, and I cry
Through the depths
Of the night,
Weeping, softly -
Baphomet, won't you hold me?
Won't you take what you will,
Like last time?
Take this misery, take
This mortal pain,
And give only what is necessary
In order to take:
The warmth of your arms,
A soft whisper of
Forgotten tales passed down
From ancient stars -
How you held me, I know
I shall never feel such warmth
Again,
I shall never deem my flesh worthless
Again,
Not since
It was cradled in your arms;
Not since
You declared it sacred.
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoetrySo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
