Tattoo

A Poem by AKhaus

Etched, not erased, the searing tales those lips did speak.
Even in the holiest house that stinging fire still scorches deep in my brain.
Gargoyles, ravens and saints cannot keep from the dead, my haunted woes and rattling bones crazed with fury.
These invisible tattoos your fingers did leave, they left such numbing and never cease to bleed.
A mark of black brings it back as I hasten these pains away.
You left, but your shadow still visits in the corners of darkness and need.