04.23.17

once, when old love became perjury
and all that was lost between us
was turned to clay,
i touched you with fire
to hollow out the corruption
and you took everything from me.
silence comes after every heartbeat
each more painful than the last
i am weary
and heavy-laden
but not holy.
never that.
in the old wars
we would be without gods
without faith
sacred in the divinity of anger.
but now we are fading
gone the way of old gods and kings
each breath poison
each day closer to the sleep
that is not rest.
i continue without you
void of purpose
and if i could feel anything
it would be fear —
atonement is coming.

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