Are you afraid,
of the games your god played?
Of the red death,
a savior made of meth?
Are you bothered,
disturbed by your brother’s conquest?
By the collared snake,
wrapped around your lover’s throat?
Are you deaf,
falling inside the abyss of your own head.
Can you hear me?
What did the word of god decree?
More like the devil.
The pendulum swings,
as the butterfly loses his wings.
The moon rises,
a saucer missing its cup.
The second hand chases after the minute,
a fox after the hound.
The street lamps buzz to themselves,
oblivious to anything not in their circle.
Dreams have trust issues,
so they come and go.
Attention is the prize,
a bird preening its feathers.
But nobody wins.
Your vanity is unequal, your voice mismatched. Twisted metal and sculpted wood breed your chords, spawning an army of ethereal attendants. Your children serve you beyond doubt, braiding their hair together as you pull at the strands.
Your power is staggering, capable of reducing the clouds to tears and the faeries to madness. All pay homage to you and your gilded cup, begging for the chance to sip your sunset wine.
You are brilliant and bold, your branches sewn in seams of gold, dripping with green sugar and blue salt. A pool of silver laps at your ankles, trailing feelings of melancholy. Oh how it feels to be you, treasured music! Humans languish under your jeweled gaze and offer their hearts to your pale lips. Devour me! Your hands trace along a mountain’s cheekbone and the wing of a fledgling. Sketch me!
such brazen pride,
from a mumbling thing.
from far beyond the walls.
from far beyond Society’s ails.
a life now ensued,
a path I can now tread.