Adobe
Magistrate
Immutable obedience kept
invisible to her detractors
distracted by her radiance
unscarred by their violence
in cyclical revolution
betrayed by merely being
attracted to it all.
Risen from the darkness all around
her world burned ashes
to picture postcards left to dust
ceramic with eyes closed
she adjusted all her strength
to capture the memory
of it all...
...once attached to the earth
as she once was holding on
for dear imperfect life
just as ice she hung
on steel pierced wrists
drained as snow melts
in spring...
...with a violent convulsion
her belly slowly and barely
filled with air and senses
came to her tortured frame
fingers grasping at the ashen
fragments of friends
and family...
...each speck of dust hit her
with a pinprick of pain
across bare skin tanned
in the dim light as each
gulp of air lost the gamble
made to save herself
from Mephistopheles...
...new waves poured over
in blazing agony from her
that began in her chest
twisting and turning
in veins through every
torn muscle through
her extremities...
...and in that despair
she sung a song of
quiet crying to soothe
her soul as the madness
of her execution took
over her tortured mind
crucified.
And I...
Would a petal of rose fall
where every drop of her blood fell
on her travels that her children
aroused by their commotion
could take a moment
to remember...
Her life was given so their feet could traverse the earth and sea freely.
Each tear she dropped
borne one of them
that she didn't know
and as her last breath
exhaled the soot and smolder
of the city that burned before her...
smothered by a wave of fourth dimension.
All gravity tore at her
bare shoulders
all wind kissed her
bare soles
and carried her soul
toward the sun.
I am to you in loving memory in the middle of our every day so her story will remain.
I still feel her finger nails
claw into my limbs
as she was nailed to her throne
amid the warmth of her
sweating naked body
pulsed upon my chest.
I pale in comparison, her blood still covers my bark.
Her limbs extended
like vines around
my timbre,
Venus,
And I,
her
miracle.
invisible to her detractors
distracted by her radiance
unscarred by their violence
in cyclical revolution
betrayed by merely being
attracted to it all.
Risen from the darkness all around
her world burned ashes
to picture postcards left to dust
ceramic with eyes closed
she adjusted all her strength
to capture the memory
of it all...
...once attached to the earth
as she once was holding on
for dear imperfect life
just as ice she hung
on steel pierced wrists
drained as snow melts
in spring...
...with a violent convulsion
her belly slowly and barely
filled with air and senses
came to her tortured frame
fingers grasping at the ashen
fragments of friends
and family...
...each speck of dust hit her
with a pinprick of pain
across bare skin tanned
in the dim light as each
gulp of air lost the gamble
made to save herself
from Mephistopheles...
...new waves poured over
in blazing agony from her
that began in her chest
twisting and turning
in veins through every
torn muscle through
her extremities...
...and in that despair
she sung a song of
quiet crying to soothe
her soul as the madness
of her execution took
over her tortured mind
crucified.
And I...
Would a petal of rose fall
where every drop of her blood fell
on her travels that her children
aroused by their commotion
could take a moment
to remember...
Her life was given so their feet could traverse the earth and sea freely.
Each tear she dropped
borne one of them
that she didn't know
and as her last breath
exhaled the soot and smolder
of the city that burned before her...
smothered by a wave of fourth dimension.
All gravity tore at her
bare shoulders
all wind kissed her
bare soles
and carried her soul
toward the sun.
I am to you in loving memory in the middle of our every day so her story will remain.
I still feel her finger nails
claw into my limbs
as she was nailed to her throne
amid the warmth of her
sweating naked body
pulsed upon my chest.
I pale in comparison, her blood still covers my bark.
Her limbs extended
like vines around
my timbre,
Venus,
And I,
her
miracle.