I Come To…

I’ve just hidden the stars from my inert, dead eyes.

Looking through the sky to reveal all that has been saved for this day,

Surpassing the bloodied misconception of this death,

it is all but consumed.

In the shadow of the snow-capped mountain, rust-tainted rain befalls

the sinners in the dark.

With wings dried cold, a heart dripping with grief,

and an unpolished halo.

It rose.

It rose from the darkness.

The shadow.

It rose.

Between the marches in my dreams.

The fire is at ease.

Abandon souls enlist as dead.

We burn down the walls of the sacristy.

Looking through the sky to reveal all that has been saved,

but consumed.

Setting sail on the last time capsule,

the exodus of souls is delayed.

Coming to senses is like an enemy stronghold upon my heart.

With wings dried cold, a heart dripping with grief,

and an unpolished, corroded halo,

I fall into a mass of sinners,

unaware of the boundaries they have broken.

They fall into my hand like a tear of blissful scorn.

I blow them into the wind and the process is repeated.

Into my cold, dead eyes,

I come to.

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