III. The Gallows

The gallows, the stars and the moon
fade into view like shadows.
Tame figures sway under glow
reaching out for the lovers’ arms
they know.
The clouds come and cover the
nightlights from the sky and
I see the embers from the ground
rising up in sensual darkness
and they close them all around.
And in a moment it’s all gone,
faded out into white
into the drifting of my mind.
Memories sewn together
from cinders and thread.
Deep voices carried in the
chimerical channels of breeze.

‘Welcome to the lie of the dead’.

The demon’s voice signals the return
of the flames and I see the gallows burn.
Limp bodies still are fighting
for some substance, flickering into
sighting amongst the flares.
Screams and laughter
like a melody in ebony air.

And by white light I’m called to arms
in besieging bright and blinding storm
of what I’d thought was flawless.
I close my eyes to save their ken
and when I open them I find
myself swinging by the hanging men.
I pray for a moment passing
like the others short in lasting,
but in struggling gasps
within the flames
this instant is eternal.

The condemned are still outreaching,
fingertips trembling close to mine
but yet they feel far in life and time.
I look to their aides, and all are smiling,
finally I see them now.
Vicious grins, as if demon-drawn
they do not move or try at all.
And beyond the blaze
she slowly fades into
my vision like shadow but
of colour, form and grace.
Tighter the twine around
my neck becomes as I look
at the sick smile upon her face.
Yet still I can’t help but feel
it is pure and delicate still.
As the woman stands our gazes
meet and I cannot reach out
or speak her name.
But to touch in this instant
and to feel her skin
may rouse me from this pain.
On the demon’s shout
she begins to fade out,
gliding lifeless into flame.
With his final words my final breath
and into darkness one more time.
But no kindled senses find me,
no pleasure in the murk.

And still this cannot be,
not the gallows, not the beast,
not the darkness, not the light,
not her pretence
or the ring of Wasteland chimes.