night journey

shadows rushing in dark gardens,

a breathless fall into abysmal waiting;

scent of blood and rotten apples in the air;

my father’s ghost rides a spider-horse

and pierces the night with a shimmering arrow;

his eyes are closed but his purple lips move:

“we must dissent from apathy,

we must dissent from fear,” he whispers 

into the white cups of the lilies;

roses tremble, starlings fall from the sky,

butterflies melt on the cold leaves.

a sinkhole opens at my feet.

“forgive my transgression -

shadows must not speak,” he repents

under the bloated moon.

road of no return, receive my father

the pale, the restless, the brave.

if only he knew! they never saw me;

they only saw what i can do for them;

father, i am afraid no more.

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