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I’ve been pounding against the gates of my heart

But it’s all for naught

The thorns twine around my hands

Drinking my blood and my tears

The rust flakes off the twisted iron

And the mist chokes my breath



The gates are shut and shut they will remain

The coldness grates against my bones

The scalding rain eats away at my hopes

Acid moisture creeps beneath my feet

Lapping at my shredded consciousness

“Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless” sighs the wind



The clouds titter and mock

Behind dark veils of smoke

Thunder giggles from far away

As I try to tug my hands free

But the thorns are strong

They bind like barbed coils of steel



And I know that they can never be broken

Because they have been forged in my soul

Tempered in my sweat

And cooled by my malice

There is no escape

From Me



©Masque

COMMENTS

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Dragonrouge
13:25 Mar 15 2008

A great poem!

Dramatic and paradoxal!





"And in the snows, glittering

in the cold fragile moonlight,

Appeared the incandescent flowers...

The blood of angels,

Said one of our round.

"Our blood".



We dance...

...and the blowing of the winds is

our only music..."

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