To the Depths

"This is an end," she cried

stumbling down the steps of the burning monument

screams of shock echoing through the waves

of sea-foam, tears - and yes through her very marrow -

once thought made gold by THOSE gods;

a pair forever annihilating each other in precarious balance.

( A balance never to be kept. )

How ridiculous was their faith to be placed into something

so volatile, hanging on the threads of mutual destruction?

She questions it only now as her robes of white press flush against her shivering skin -

robes for show, robes for mercy - all that was and ever will be

swallowed up by the wave cresting the cliffside - the whole world,

( an embrace, an agonizing death? )

and there with her arms outstretched - in desperation?

her fingers curling into strung out pearls of sorrow;

"This is our end!"

What could I say to comfort the apostle

when I myself felt gravity like a chain

pulling me into the depths to outrun the very gods?

( That unstoppable wave? )

I must reach out, regardless,

to hold her through to the end.

"Then let us be drowned, you and I,

and hope for a better horizon; a tomorrow without tears,

for that is all we have ever wanted."

______________

Author's Note:

Another stream of consciousness poem that serves as a partner to To Stardust and to To Starfall ( just published today! ).

All are teasers for a future project. c:

An EnD oF -