Part V
In the nave of the village church,
Metallic snap echoes as
The iron-laden doors shut.
Latches secure the Chapel’s etched glass,
Offerings at the altar,
Prayers at the altar
Chanting at the altar.
None will stop the Howl,
None will slake the thirst of Wind and Wave.
While in my granite cell
I look up, scenes of Hell
Upon the roof,
When I look down,
An oaken chair,
Where my hands had been, I find black claws
Clutching at the curled arms.
Before me, a great Fire-stone, flames
Echoing from its center.
And across from me, a slender wisp
Rises from her own seat,
Encouraging the fire.
Chains curl behind me and to my side,
Spirits play in the smoke before me;
Feeding the Incineratus, Hideous
Shapes with mouths agape -
Many I have known.
Whose fault
Winds snapped the mast
Whose fault
Waves breaching the seawall
Whose fault
Red Eyes in Storm Clouds
Mea culpa
Mea culpa
Mea culpa
Shape envelops the wisp,
Substance to the dream,
Her flesh turns tight.
Her flesh turns grey,
Eyes of slate
Set upon a bony platter -
Shadow darkening across her figure.
The Black Dog sits beside her
Now a beast without eyes,
A slavering maw exhaling death.
Its sniff, a shivering hiss,
Its paws, pressing the air from my lungs,
Its teeth, like fire-shards, burrow into my flesh.
I think upon much that is lost,
And watch dimly as the blood
Pulses from my body.
I see her again,
And she has my mother’s face.
Black axes splinter the bold doors
Of the Village Church,
Hunters and dogs seeking
Victims who
Had sought victims themselves.
Promises to be kept
Promises to be kept
The Wild Hunt touches all.
I see her as she looked to me
When I was but a child
Then
Darkness is all.
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