Bottled and enchanted

Robed spots of galaxies and peacock purple

What use does your name provide for my life’s purpose?

Enchanted and unbound

Sage of another nurture

Your epithet is the sword

Through which many have come to abhor

Beautiful and sparkling nonsense

Be banished to the outskirts of human conscience

Obtain the key to self-belonging

Ere you find nothing ‘fore the throne of abyssal torment

Assaulted from the streams of craftily void-bedighted melancholy, a common man most strange set my insides on fire. The urge to walk away rivalled me at first, yet I won once I told myself that his lips I would claim.

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

The hissings of deflection echoed as the deviant moon weaved tales in my head.

“Danger!” they said. “Intoxication and dread!”

Some may argue that temptation had a role in this play, yet I say it was curiosity that drove me past the edge.

I wished to unravel the potential held in his spring-like cage.

I rose from the Underworld as a hunter for the prey.

Choirs of roses and chrysanthemums beclothed me as I danced above the frozen waters and stiff air.

The common man still strange reveled in the image of my luminous threads, bewitched by the songs that my soul firmly did reflect.

But fascination does not guarantee comprehension in a person.

To my picture, he cast his own ever disregarding with stupendous affright and unwavering creed the sinister light with whom he did speak.

As heartening and liberating as the strings of my instrument sounded, the essence of the message dissolved before the gates of his own encagement.

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

“You are my call and vocation”, he used to say, “but your words make and make no sense”.

In his narrow perception, my vision was untamed a will o the wisp most stubborn waiting for ground to lay and rest.

I foretold forthcoming pain. This man this walking flame breathed dead in his green meadow’s weight.

As captivated as I was, my judgement held onto me tight. Thus, in an April night, a full moon shone bright and to her I gave my woes and sang:

“If you must depart from me, leave.

If that is so, then let me go.

Just remember I was genuine”.

The saline ocean of my eyes poured to purify my being as indifference planted her seed in my soil of sleen.

May trailed in nonchallantly its rains a remainder of what I gave away as the common man ever strange ran away when my mind he could not overtake.

In my own unconcern, a part of me was not at rest. Detachment and the disrespect of a child most strange waged war within myself in the search of a balance that seemed too far away.

I embarked in the endeavour to slay the raging beast of my inlands, and with a chalice at hand, I sang anew at midnight.

Cardinal fire with earthly stare

saw a little flower and lost his head.

Saw the Abyss right through her eyes,

but could not hold the maelstrom inside.

~*~

Walking flame that burnt so bright,

met with Darkness, drowned himself in the tarry waters of the depths.

The night was witness to their descent,

and the daemoness sang in hazel duet:

“I let you go.

I let you go.

Despite it all, I let you go.

Go find yourself.

Go find your peace.

Clearly – visibly – my thorns are too rough for your skin”.

Image by Prawny from Pixabay

By lordly will, peace spread her tentacles and embraced me. Submerged in perfect apathy, I foresaw the man’s return.

With an injured head and grasping onto his last hope, he came to me for the nourishing of the spirit and the soul. In his exhausted vessel, he rose and wept before me that I may forgive his transgression.

“Fool!” he said, “I am a fool beyond consideration!”

“A fool indeed,” said I, “but I will look past this indignation”.

Despite my impartiality toward the matter, I chose to stay and see the direction of the case. In cold desire, I observed and learnt human behaviour. And, as habits of the lost go, this man most strange this walking flame ran away again when truth proved too strong for him to take.

Now, I had seen the cycle ’till the end. I returnt to my abode laughter in my core and erased all the trails that may lead to my door were the irresolute infant in a man’s shadow to return with promises that he cannot hold.

Image by Prawny from Pixabay