Darkness born, dearest brat.
Words are but a wound woven into the world,
fluttering fragments of fabric,
tearing apart the truth.
Puppeteer of Feelings, free of heart.
Salutations from my serpent soul:
Malicious melodies of madness,
birth a bitter boldness.
Free of feelings, Puppeteer of Heart.
Dearest born, darkest brat.
She is coming with the clouds,
Mother to Us All.
Turns out I last wrote poetry or prose that doesn't fall under the categories of haiku or 'everyday poetry' back in early 2009. Yes, you're all enjoying the fruits of a much younger self. And yet, earlier this week, I've been inspired to pick up my writing once more, and this is the piece I penned.
The inspiration for this piece, and the person to whom it is dedicated is @mamadini, you can listen to a collection of her spoken-word pieces that helped inspire this piece here. I sincerely hope she'll grace us with a reading of the poem.
It's a long time since I've been a boy of 16. But there you go, a piece inspired by and dedicated to a lovely Witch who cast a spell on me.
I'd also like to thank the kind members of the Isle of Write Discord channel for giving me feedback for reworking the second stanza. Everything else flowed well, but that one needed some good hammering.
The image used is "The Abduction of Proserpine(Persephone)" by Rembrandt, 1631, and is used under public domain rights.