Assassin

‘Forgive me father
for I have sinned.
It has been 
well never
since my last confession.’
I stood within the cavernous opening
rock hewn
trendles of mist reaching out
with flame in hand
knowing I had to enter.
Prone before the crystal altar
his mouth moving
in silent prayer
lay a man dressed in priestly garb
though I knew
a religous man he was not.
Lashed upon the cross on high
a boy
a child
an innocent
being offered up
sacrificed
slaughtered
to appease some broken diety.
My step is light
I silently unsheath my sword
pressing it to my lips
a sign of secrecy
so the boy does not scream.
His last breath hissed free
blood
soaked within the stones beneath him
while I stand over top
a malicious smile on my face.
I am exemplary.
I do my job well.
Assassin down the ages
striking
slaying
the rabid vultures
who prey upon our innocents.
Sept. 19/18
Photo by Lê Tân on Unsplash
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My Knight

***This is a continuation of This poem is a continuation from River StyxDesert Red and Waste/Safe Land and Harlequin.
My mind in tatters
no longer content
I suffer at the hands
the feet
the vile wit
of Harlequin.
Fettered
handcuffed
shackled
I am merely a toy
a vain prop
to make a mad man appear sane.
None talk to me
none will come to my aid
I sit alone
dirty
scared
invisible to all that prance before the chief.
Sure that I was forever entrapped
slowly going insane
my knight in shining armor
he finally appeared.
Harlequin tried to protest
to gloss over
the horrors he had done.
The Knight
unsheathed his sword
shattered my chain in one swift blow.
Turning
his sword made a graceful arc
as he beheaded Harlequin
while I cried
cheering at his death.
Sept. 17/18
Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

River Styx

Awakening
slowly
unsure
where I am
how I got to be here
why am I on a boat?
I sit up
silent
wary
watching the river glide by
or is it I that is gliding?
Behind me
silent
grim
poles Charon….
I know exactly where I am
yet how did I get here?
No memories
no hatred
no pain
wait no pain?
Where has the fear
the anguish
the terror gone?
Replaced by a sense of…..
peace.
The jetty
abuts the riparion
I gingerly step out
wondering
where I am suppose to go?
I turn to ask
but Charon is gone
leaving me alone
upon the River Styx
awaIting the next guardian
who will help me
to move forward.
Sept. 12/18
Photo by LEBORSKI PROJECT on Unsplash

Spirits

Crimson lips
dipped in poison
whisper pious words.
Head bent forward
prayer of supplication
no need to fear.
Cross to bear
my own.
Hatred to shed
yours.
Unsure if I am able to go forward
without the abuse of your dead.
Walking amongst the forgotten
fingers trailing
whisping frost
disintergrating
from my warm touch.
Each spirit I stroke
echoes  a plea
‘let me go’.
I look to release them
from this plane.
Forgiveness is not required.
I see thickened strands
black shadows
acting as shackles
keeping them close to me.
With a single thought
I unlock each one
allowing the spirits to flee.
Sept. 7/18
Photo by Michael Weidner on Unsplash

Undecided

Daintily
picking her way 
stepping over bleached bones
skirt held up
as though she was curtsying to the Queen.
Ballet movements
graceful
hands on hips
glaring around
‘Who is to blame 
For this mass genocide?’
Standing atop the crumbling mound
bones collapsing into dust
the unlucky ones who were caught outside
when the bombs came down
flesh seared from bones
mothers bonded forever more
with their childrens cold corpses.
All were warned
all were told there would be a price to pay
if the situation was not altered
but continued unabated.
The walls were built
silos filled
with more grain than they could eat
cows
pigs
horses too
all saved
to repopulate a world
destroyed by….
greed
war
famine
drought
pestilents
overpopulation
the list goes on and on.
With no one person to blame
fingers point….
East
West
North
South
no one will be responsible
no one will claim that wrong had been done.
Instead
slithering
undulating through the shadows
speaking in whispered tongues
the beast waits to make it come all undone.
She stands alone atop the world
eyeing the devestation done
she will become the hunteress
cleansing the world of sin.
A fierce battle will occur
with a winner as yet undeclared.
August 28/18

Little Brown Hen

Looking at her
you would never foresee
the secret life that she leads.
How when darkness falls
she slides through the shadows
a nightmare
caught in the corner of your eye.
Pray that you have not sinned
pray that if you have
it is a small one
that can be overlooked
forgiven
unpunished.
Larger sins
vices that harm
those will be the ones that she notices
that must be fixed.
Howled fear
repentance
finally acceptance
until silence does reign.
The last thought in your mind
how nondescript she looks
how nonthreatening
until her knife rips you apart.
Aug. 20/18
Photo by Jordan Whitt on Unsplash

Wrath

Never once
did you ever do
more that mouth platitiudes
for ripping me apart.
You stole from me
innocence
laughter
life
leaving me
bereft
depressed
destroyed.
Anger stole in
replacing all that was good
as the past roiled and burned
searing my soul
my heart
my very being.
As I stand over you
watching the blood of your life
flow from your desperate body
grudgingly I forgive
for I want not
a wraith of a monster
held close by my wrath.