woodnotwood
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
ChariotBut at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in they marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honor turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
~Marvell
Tonight it is cold. The skies were clear today. Clouds evanesced in the sun's warm rays, enough so to remove any insulation they may have provided to the night's cold winds. And in this wind I hear a voice. Distant yet clear. It calls to me across dark waters and draws me to the shore. A muse, a siren, that begs me to stick my toes into that roiling, seething expanse and threatens to overtake me with the coldest of passions.
I submit, my heart the weakest part of my armor, and answer to the call of Prometheus as he taunts me to frigid play. His waves batter upon me, cold fingers that dance against my skin and leave their damp trace upon my hair.
He caresses me and leads me further into the sea, until I am at his mercy, only his buoyancy keeping my head above water. I am his. To do with as he pleases.
No more than his plaything.
No less than his lover.
Life is too short, and people are too valuable, to be cast so easily to the side, and so I make my stand. My body my only weapon, I lay down arms and submit to his bidding.
Whatever he may ask of me shall be his.
I have no fear.
And tonight... the words that whisper me to sleep, as Mnemosyne spreads her long fingers across my eyes, pulling my lids, like a shroud against the night's faint cries, the mother of the muses, the Titaness of memory, she haunts my waking hours and embraces me in the dark...
I want to hold the hand inside you
I want to take a breath that's true
I look to you and I see nothing
I look to you to see the truth
You live your life
You go in shadows
You'll come apart and you'll go black
Some kind of night into your darkness
Colors your eyes with what's not there.
Fade into you
Strange you never knew
Fade into you
I think it's strange you never knew
| Truth is a Matter of Perspective Site Ring Ring Owner: Seeker Site: Truth is a Matter of Perspective |
||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
||||
