Purgatorio

Good morning, everybody. Happy Saturday! It’s been another little while since my last post, but I’ve got a really great one for you today. This one throws in a little bit of greek mythology for all you nerds out there. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy.


Purgatorio

Bounding, pounding, resounding…

nothing takes the pain away.

Medicate, premeditate,

nothing takes the shame away.

~

So very still

does he sit,

upon his perch,

looking down at all the things;

“Why,” he wonders,

“are they all so far away?”

~

“The One who put this all together,

can you see the very lies that you have told?”

“Can you see the very lives that you have sold?”

He would ask these questions of that One,

thinking himself so bold.

~

No answers will be given,

only grievance will be wrought,

and on his high-up perch,

he thinks he’ll roll a die.

~

“One to three and I’ll be me,”

he trills to no one in particular.

“Four through six…,”

he laments

as he slowly turns his hand

and the die is cast into the Styx.

The Mare

A short poem today, though perhaps not the shortest. I would sincerely hope its words do not resonate too much with you, for it is in my deepest sorrow that they come to me. Regardless, my friends, I do hope you enjoy. Find some solace in it? Without further ado…


The Mare

Adrift again

upon that familiar sea.

The waters below,

through them I can see,

all along the seafloor,

memories of the dead.

This sea of dread

upon which I have found

fell waves and foul beasts

that weather and wear

my flimsy raft.

Of sticks and fibers

and stones for ballast

I’ve crafted from the isle

my life-saving companion.

Always does the Lord provide.

Dread timbers sail

and flags forgotten fly,

almost as if

the ghosts mean to help me along.