I remember when the words made more sense than this

When the world did

When these twilights felt like home

And I’d hone these fantasies

Until they were real and mine

Mine them of love and loss and courage

Carefully, tenderly, desperately

Consociate, wade, and forage,

Forge, raise, and be remade

As both hero and coward, fool and sage

Seeking refuge in enchantment, adventure, myth

Enshrined by emblems and anthems and withered pages

That whisper of loyalty, grief, grace

Render stronger and more intimate chimeras of myself

Face demons by which I would usually be hunted and chased

Drift, disappear, reimagine myself between worlds

Delve into the fissures and deepest recesses

Of labyrinths and wildernesses

Unearth stories, truths, wonders

Maybe even strength, promise, faith

To treasure, refine, wield, embrace

To shield, decorate, illuminate; lace

Across this cavern’s walls

To lull this beautiful, painful trance –

The abandonment, the derision, the cruel dance

The choreographed steps and motions of violence

Diminished, melded, disintegrated

By this iridescent scintillation

By the sorcery and lightning

That had rent apart a crevice in this mountain

Wrought this hollow, kindled this lambent glow

Where fear is dispersed, ever-present, remote:

Tyrant, shadow, blacksmith, molten flow,

Known and unknown, friend and foe

In this battleground we called home

This sanctuary we keep alone

This brittle armour fashioned from ores of sorrow

And bound together by static and ashes

To veil over and ward away the darkness


I sometimes miss this place

And wish I could trace my fingers across the carvings in the stone again

If only for a moment of shelter

To remind myself what it might feel like to unknow the rain

Even though the draught was sometimes coldest here.


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