the dark night
the cold hibernal wind
the smell of frozen snow in my nostrils
the moments fall in icey flakes
the warm days of my youth curl as autmunal leaves
and yet I yearn
and long
that some justice might visit my lonely court
Rhiannon you have always been my guide
will you forsake me now
have I not carried enough visitors on my back
to lust
to others' arms
to self-fulfillment
to the grave
you toiled seven years in Arberth
now I enter my ninth in this place of servitude
and long and long so long have I waged war
do not warriors fight better when well-loved
with a fellow soldier at their sides
was this not the way of Southern Barbarians
would I not be richer still with a strong back to my own
however now the sun has set
and the dark half of my year clammers about my limbs
invading my entrails with wretched promises
somewhere in this darkness I shall meet Truth
yet I would still have a small coal alight in snowy moments
this quixotic desire envivifies me
and so I move zombie-like in blind hope
across deserted tundra
until the hammer falls
only once but decisively
and I greet Orpheus' muse
as I have nearly every bridge I have crossed
irreconcilibly on my own
dissabte, d’agost 18, 2007
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