At the Gates of Amnesia / A Halo for the Sane

And round it spins, and round it goes around your fingers; a perfect world in a perfect circle, a portal through which your soul is channelled to the heart for which it longs, to a cradle in a room that is your home, to an empty bottle, to a lonely glass, to a desolate shadow that is not yours to embrace.

Your eyes can no longer sleep, awaiting a ray of light that’s gone astray, for all you see are blackened shards of shattered glass and bleeding curtains of murdered hopes. You turn the ring, you close the portal, you lock the door, and back to the darkest of all of them corners you crawl.

“Stolen chords and borrowed rhymes,
fractured songs of madness
Echo with the bleakest chimes
dragging trails of sadness

By the altar of the lost
and torn, her vows she’d utter
Bathed in darkness, with a crown
of thorns, her heart aflutter

So broke the void from whence he show’d;
a crow of wit and age
And there he stood, with night adorned
Thus quoth the sightless sage:

“This my kingdom, thou behold
nigh the shores of Lethe,
nurtures neither love nor gold
hence foredoomed shall be thee”

Stolen chords and borrowed rhymes,
fractured songs of madness
Echoed in my bleakest times
and wrought my life of sadness”

H.Q.
04:33
Monday, 07/01/2013