The Unbonding

It did not come with storms or cries,

It crept beneath unblinking eyes.

No trumpet warned, no omen flared,

Just silence, smiling, unprepared.

Not born of light nor birthed in flame,

It crawled beneath a borrowed name.

Its voice was smoke, its touch was rust,

It turned belief itself to dust.

Fifteen years it wore my breath,

A shadow clothed in living death.

It broke no bones, yet bent my spine,

A demon feeding line by line.

It knew no gender, knew no face,

A hunger draped in human grace.

It drank the prayers I tried to keep,

Then buried them in halls of sleep.

No pact was signed, yet I was sold.

My fire dimmed, my blood ran cold.

Each word it spoke was forged of ash,

A hymn corrupted, torn and thrashed.

Now in this hour, I do not plead.

I bleed its name where gods won’t read.

No cross can cleanse, no book absolve,

This is a curse that must dissolve.

So let it crawl into the pit,

Where liars dine and torches lit.

Let every kiss it ever gave

Return as fire within its grave.

It is not dead, it never dies,

It waits in forms it can disguise.

But I have torn the veil in two,

And now I see what walks with you.

A Judas wears what you hold dear,

It speaks as kin, it draws you near.

But I have learned its ancient scent,

And now I walk, no longer bent.

I turn the page, it’s blank and white,

No Judas waiting for one last rite.

All things surface, everything ends,

Truth reveals what devil commands.

I take one look at what’s left behind,

No chains, no mask, no twisted bind.

No curse, no throne, no need to cry...

Just one last look,one last goodbye.

Reviews

[Lara]

I must say, milena - the form you use for this piece, (and how well you've carried it out!) really intensifies the theme. It's great!
This piece reflects a real committment to both writing formality, and spiritual discernment. Has quite the Gothic edge!