"The divisional prospectus" Tread lightly and you can hear the dismal key, The groaning offices of the dead reveling in misery, Awaiting penance for disbanded funeral rites, Countless shades abandoned without respite, So tread lightly take note of the funeral dirge, It begs an audience attuned to trepidation upon the river scourge. A bit of advice for the tireless trip ahead, Never forget these “gods” among men already long dead. It was then I looked upon his unrepentant face, Aloof in wisdom atop a feverish gaze, With arms outstretched his commanded I obliged, More emphatic and stoic than I could have ever actualized. How dismal an existence to spend the hours wading over the souls who wait, Defining pain with each day that he waked, I found myself in the teeth of the guardian of a dreary coast, He whose eyes were just as burdened as there tired host. Paralyzed in a moment with absolute dread and fear, Its was his gaze that binds his will adhered, And out of the a chasm new horror premiered, A Sea of hands and heads from bank to bank appear, The hand of the damned now the arms that stear, Fist over fist they chartered us across the lonely tide, The river pain and its patron saints canonized, I thought of peace and to no avail, The cries of the past and ghosts upon the veil, Upon their wake less dreams my journey set sail, To what end do I race and what will it entail, Sudden fits of nausea my skin gone a chill pale, The dread I face and the despair I can no longer curtail. Like the men I lead I am helpless along the cattle trail, I sold my soul and all I got was this bill of sale. Save your sorrows for the transitional tribunal, No stone unturned for this insatiable communal, I’ll say this once son the dread can wait, Just like the lost it to will fade, From rotting wood to unending your fate, Divine retribution for the role you played. If I am forever then why would I judge a mortals visage, Like the ghosts within your thoughts I am the water in the mirage, Rest your spirits now for tomorrow at dawn We sharpen your gaze for atonement is a lengthy voyage, Like kings upon the main contesting every barrage, Forget not your life but souls wagered. Seek contentment in the legacy of your labors Remember son the grace you seek is still mired within the gale. And its not a matter of if but when if you’ll raise your tattered sail, Now which warring side within you will prevail.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Sep 2013 00:14:07 +0000
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