the artifacts of the soul

As the tides of my defeat begin to recede

And my white flag of peace starts to rip at the seams

Whispers in passing, I still hear them laughing

It gave me something when nothing was all I was capable of feeling

They burn every material essence of me

But the ashes settle on everything

Metaphorical soaring but literal falling

My descent was blurry like bone crushing poetry

I'm having to question and justify my existence

Is my reflection some scripted deep rooted nonsense?

When the first light of Sun strikes me like an antidote

A wave of warmth engulfs me as my heart turns to dust

Frost settles on the ashes of my conquest

I hold the matches in my clenched fist

All the blood lore drenched on the carpet

Blue flames dance at the foot of my bed

I never fell in this deep enough to struggle to find the surface

My rage strangled the air and was feuding with the oceans

My pain seems counterfeit cloaked by guilt that's genuine

Please don't remember me in this light I shone a little too bright in one of my lives

I know there was once an unshakeable grief

Half intended but full throttle in my sleep

And these words were written with the blindest of rage

But now they're simply the artifacts of a soul impaled.

-auctor

auctor