Wednesday, June 6, 2012

For Parchments Sake




On parchment dried and hung for Creed
I stared upon what I thought was.

Not for sake of wonderment;
But, for sake of sane.

Could in a moment:
A Soul?
A Heart?
And what I saw be gone?

Leaving only witness to Decree?

A dipping well with pen which did lap ink,
a thin, long bone, with marrow spared, the feather must have flown.
It tipped the thick and dark-like substance, red ink it seemed once moved.
drawn-up within the thread, blood?

"This Child...."
The words poured,
like the sink I heard no more.

"Where did all that......?
 Where did that young boy go?"
I seemed further from myself
the distance seemed to grow, the louder I seemed to be.

I sank to "NO" that I was next:
A wet, a skin-like shawl stopped me.

"A lamp, I'm not"
I screeched!

"Nor girl of Soul, I take"



"Heed yourself"
An unearthly voice spoke in serious stake.

For there it ends for me.
My soul doth take,
I no longer need,
to toil upon such deed.


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