Monument
  

Monument

 

Your blood runs free down the face of the mountain

You are split asunder, you are free

Your mind troubled no more, your heart open

Your severed head a trophy for my mantle

Your limbs a feast for the demons that mocked you

Your body a gory cave, a crypt for your soul

Your entrails nourishment for the next wound

Your dead eyes still and grateful

Your blood pools at the foot of the mountain

An offering, a sacrifice, a disgrace

The blade that opened you, warm yet from the taste of you

I revel in the freedom of what is finished

This death a rapturous beginning

This blood the price of betrayal

This mountain a monument

A ward in tribute to love lost

 

Lacuna Eidolon


Comments:
 
moonsail   moonsail wrote
on 11/19/2009 6:14:05 AM
This is packed full of power, and emotive imagery. So good is the imagery that I can almost taste the carniage. And then right at th end, a change of ambiance This mountain a monument A ward in tibute to love lost And the anger and hatred blends with the pain of loss.... This is stunningly good I salute you T

StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 9/28/2008 11:49:05 PM
Spilled "blood" runs deep and I see it ran deep into your soul. I am glad you found the courage within to face this and to realize that you have had enough. Keep your head up and live your life!

Lacuna Eidolon
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Synopsis
Especially towards the end of my failing marriage, I envisioned the love inside me as a separate entity. It seemed to have its own will, its own logic, and its own life. I dreamed of ways to kill it. I would relive the most hurtful things over and over in an effort to drive it away, to force logic to prevail over this pitiful creature. Obviously I failed to conquer what I felt was some kind of monster living within me. I could not understand why I would continue to live in abomination when it was torturing the very fabric of my mind and soul. One fine day in April of this year I finally went against this malignant creatures will and said I was finished. I’d like to say I never looked back, but I have – many, many times. I feel so very different these days. But do I trust what’s inside me completely? The answer is no. I’ve seen the living dead movies. Zombies are harder to kill than living things. I keep a close guard over what’s going on with me these days. I’ll burn that fucker if it even twitches…
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