The aftershocks of Rage,

Finding me lying,

In desolation under dawn,

With the soft and excruciating breeze,

That flies, chasing all-hiding night,

My only solace in the following of my pain;

With its bright and gentle sentinel,

Gazing at my grief with her face of tears,

Weeping for my loss and none gained,

Brightening my form in shallow light.

 

Thus I lay in internal agony,

The core of my being thrashing about,

In split and strangled pain,

Contemplating the lights of my expression,

Bright and intimidating the myriad colors were before in my dark passion,

Now darkened and vainly hidden,

By my skyward sister in her selfless mourning,

And I, fighting off her aid, thinking her a nuisance,

In wanting of the exuberance of my own light,

Relief forbidden and pain upon my molestation.

 

The memory is haunting,

Of the day’s end before this,

When I returned home finding my cool change gone,

And the hatred that I felt, for the thief hiding in the night,

Raping its greatness, and its unwavering acceptance,

Of all that is dark, yet holding brightness within,

My black-bright spirit, and its primal wants,

I have held it in innocence, since I discovered its intent,

I tamed it, tamed it, tamed it to what it is,

Now all is for naught, as I undo the chains with my own hand.

 

My bones freeze under me,

Constricting me from the desires of my grief,

And denying my want for movement,

And destruction, total and unforgiving,

Upon myself, seeming the only friend of the parasite Sorrow;

And with thus dreadful desire the rain falls,

And the blinding presence of hateful Helios,

Is dimmed by the masts of its vessels,

And it falls upon my grey exterior, melting it,

And finally my rage flows off of me like tiny rivers,

Revealing my unknown want.

 

And as my own majestically horrifying face,

Drips and falls away from my mirroring eyes,

I gaze upon the faces of unhindered brethren,

And see upon them the grotesque stains of familiar color,

And underneath I thinking: Was once there unjustly hidden,

Such angelic and bright expressions of happiness,

And purging of memory, bleak and shadowing,

Upon their right-seeking souls,

Their own white hearts, loving,

And forgetful of that which lay over their footpath before?

 

And I free myself of all but the most stubborn paints of my grimace,

And see the world anew, with past exhumed from mind,

Replaced only by renewed and pleasing hope,

And the knowledge of my dear sister’s return in the next welcomed night,

With the desire within me to thank her for such struggled solace,

She so stubbornly and righteously donated to me and mine,

Mankind.