where it hurts
in the ultimate silence of the gathering dark let me mould my words and rephrase the past for an angel that weighs the sweetest of heads against these words. godlike, my love. godlike. the world you have shaped we all at your feet, we all your feat you solved us all, absolved our tears an arrow, an anvil of pure fire so you moulded the world for us, and us alone your light we absorbed and drank you dry a thirst-ridden whirlwind of beggars but now our house has grown still vast empty spaces that nothing can fill as you whither away into a dark speck of pain the beggars are gone as if they’d never been and the silence grows darker till my ears ring I cup my hands around your flame that never needed words for a goddess sheds light so on I fight while the world retreats I fight the dark, I fill the stillness I lay the world upon your altar for the world will be words when you are gone, and words are for angels that can’t be undone. when you are gone