Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Year of writing 214. Cercyon.

Cercyon

This roadside dust,
trampled and bloody -
this is my kingdom.

These arms, hardened steel,
have crushed life
from all who accept my challenge.

All this is yours! I shout
in the broken faces of men
at my feet; their eyes, lifeless.

They are my father's eyes,
each of them, liquid like his realm,
all tempest put to rest at my hand.

I will put them down
one by one, smash and ruin
until this false god of water

lies drowned in the blood
of these offerings.  Or perhaps
until my own life flows,

red rivers spiderwebbing into
the dust. Let it evaporate quickly then,
let the moisture be gone.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cercyon

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