the vixen

 

I find myself anointed

By the black tears of my survivals

Is my judgement so beyond repair?

That the weight of my prejudice rests on a hundred heads? 

I'm struck by these arrows of gold

The chivalry starts to grow old 

And my ill-temper may never see the pink of health again

My cedar desk holds my tears like grime 

For over twenty years and a thousand nights

As the chill winds itself on my spine like a snake

I thank the heavens for my vixen like grace

I sleep soundly with my armored soul locked in a bottle

The jackals with their black sands wait in the dusk of the shadows

No amount of sunshine washes away the dark night I walk into

Full throttle, sailing the untamed oceans, they leave me battered and bruised

I'm hit by these bullets of gold

Ricocheted off the wall and they fall to the floor

My burnt favors and scarlet letters 

Line the inside of my tomb of stone

My cushioned fall grieves the death of my valor

Played hard to get, watched my love life shatter

I forget my vixen blood is shared with none 

And buried in it deep is eternal relief for his soul

I find myself wanderlust

Lured in by the forbidden woods

The dim lights and my boiling blood 

Fight my urge to meet the end

My roaring engine and my promised pension 

Would've, could've, should've been the rainbow

After the hurricane, but all I ask is for a sign 

That disbelief will never be alien to me in this age

With my thumping fist glued to my chest

I walk the death march silent disco

I fix my hair, throw my reluctance in the air 

And polish my hands, calloused

I stare at their faces, innocent ashes

Victims of violet fires of rage or lust

 And I thank my vixen spirit for having the courage 

To bite back when I couldn't. 

-auctor