What is...
A king without a throne?
A man with a reign and no one under...
Thus the fall and cats and dogs annulled,
Still clouds gather and crowds disperse.
Attempts to rule, marginalized,
Gall within like gemstones in the belly,
and no one can see the richness within
(But we see the vileness spewed and coated in saliva)
For stones in bellies belong not.
Where is the scepter and the royal crown?
Hips ache from the weight of the empty coin purse,
And rings wears he, but for tournaments not ornaments,
And life is a match, but soaked in tears and blood.
Again he failed to light the hearts of his people ablaze.
(They were never yours to burn)
Can you relate?
What is...
A goddess of the earth in a world of glass and steel?
Who can fathom her appeal...
The muddy dirt is swept away to reveal a chromium gleam.
No temples with burning incense, or altars with flowing blood
Neglected, unremembered,
Entombed in concrete and marble,
The richness, the essence, the scent.
Purity called imperfection
Wholeness called dirt
Precarious balance forgotten.
Again the goddess wakes
And again she stirs
And she claims that which is owed,
Swallowing unwilling sacrifices whole,
And purifying with purity,
(Purity in what form? A reflection of souls...)
Balance regained for just a moment of terror and trembling.
Then it ends.
And again she is covered like a blemish because
Here she has no shrine, no priests, no hearts,
And the meaning of her power is unlearnt.
Can you remember?
Now even without what makes you, you live on just as they.
(A fragmented distorted visage brimming with unlearnt truths)
Can you understand?
[A/N: comments and criticism are always welcome, thanks for reading, after all, what is a writer without a reader? :) ]
