Zodiac

The Scorpion

The Scorpion

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Some words just demand to be spoken.

And some thoughts force their way from my mind with murderous intent,

Carving their severe lines with my ink.

On my paper.

•

Black blood is what I see dripping down the page,

Covering the blue lines and virgin white with it's sinister darkness.

The strength of my spirit that frightens my heart with its inhuman might.

The power that is

Me.

•

When I look at my reflection, I can see galaxies of suns ablaze in my eyes.

I can see the dignity of royals that reigned on earth eons ago,

And found their dwelling place among myths.

And legend.

•

And I think to myself,

Can any decent person bring themselves to fall in love with a legend?

Do the righteous lie only with the righteous,

And leave the beasts to roll with the beasts?

In the mud.

Where they belong.

•

What, I ask myself, is the price of my greatness?

Are my temple steps so steep that no mortal can climb them?

It is the burden of the eternal.

Only monsters live forever.

•

I don't resent it.

I would not change it.

If the finite creatures punish me for my immortality,

Then I will punish them for their mortality.

•

Let then the insects crawl with the insects.

Let them eat the filth of their ancestors.

I do not need their love.

Their devotion.

Their adoration.

I am a god.

And fear satisfies.

•

My eyes are the truth. It cries from them in the crystal waters.

No one could ever love me.

Not when I am what I am.

Not when my fountain is filled with the blood of their daughters and sons.

Not when my thoughts -

My victorious thoughts control the pen that pierces.

That slays.

•

I know who I am.

I am despicable.

I am desperate.

•

I am -

An animal.

In the deepest part of my soul,

Wherein lies a sickness that controls my mind and heart and hands.

•

And it conquers.

It always,

Always

Conquers.