Sister Century Ides

A Poem by Perdition

I closed her in to the failing worlds I once escaped. They were bound to darkness like a stalled aperture within.The height of Heaven held my deepest depth of Hell:

I writhed serpentine where she poured seeds of apples red, thick threads of pale-minded jubilance; Glorious as blue-eyed portals. Discerns and Deliberations woke us hard as the merciless fowl that sang its song 'neath the hangman’s tree, sawing fresh the glades outside our minstrel window.

I think back now, walking unfettered with the dust of age and rotted ides of time; time that perhaps was her only sin bound to the steel-weight of rust colored rope that tied my angel dying inside of her; ropes that cut and bound her loveliness; Her simplicity of air. The ties that held her in the deepest ends of our day to daily waters, as well as well too early her blue and stiffened hands.

I know now alone the truth of that night. The page of life that wilted her name left dangling in the wires of wind; seven squared as severed Anne Boleyn.

As the owl comes so comes the cost of night and with it swoops the wings of a swift and silent hunter. I gave to her a last red tear then plunged to Hell; no more thy known eyes shielded as is in the thrill of the opened husk when flowing true to your own seaward sun.

Opened to gales that truly serve.

© 2013 Perdition

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Reviews

Priscilla Sayers

This piece is remarkable Love. Your Soul pours forth and as mine is weary I feel much like she who is dying among the reeds of discontented Souls. I no longer have the strength to feed those in need and the rust colored rope has left tattoos around my neck as the heart I have has fallen like sand through the hour glass...
Your Soul speaks through this and my eyes are blessed to read your brilliance Hawk.