"A Vow to the Self" Written By Milena Grubor

Within this tomb where ancient vows are sworn,

From grief and dust a darker self is born.

The candle flickers, trembling with its light,

As I descend alone into the night.

I stitch my lips where whispered truths would bleed,

For silence feeds the marrow of my creed.

My wars are waged where mortal eyes lose sight,

In catacombs that swallow sound and night.

I trust no hand that has not touched the grave,

For faith is forged where none are left to save.

The past lies stiff, devoid of breath or voice,

No phantom crawls to claim me by its choice.

I shackle wrath lest madness seize my mind,

For rage devours all reason left behind.

The flesh is starved, the appetite denied,

Till iron will alone remains my guide.

I read by flame, I walk by measured doom,

No bread nor wine shall perfume thought with fume.

From rigid nights a colder calm is grown,

A throne of bone where I endure alone.

Where scars once screamed beneath the tearing skin,

Two sigils rise to seal the war within.

Thus agony is crowned with final form,

And pain stands still, no longer storm.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

'I stitch my lips where whispered truths would bleed,
For silence feeds the marrow of my creed.
My wars are waged where mortal eyes lose sight,
In catacombs that swallow sound and night.'

A first class 'tale' told in Poem form, Milena! Your meter remains from start to finish too.. you are such a fine poet.

[Michael Sun Bear]

You are still the master of this genre. I always enjoy.