It is never easy to portray yourself as weak and fragile but it is so refreshing to just let it go…
“I yield and take a knee.”Stone-cold staircase
illuminated by the torches
wielding dancing turquoise flame,
radiating frozen breath
that I take through the nostrils,
burning tender inner skin.
I land at the bottom
of this ancient citadel,
greeted by the heavy metal gate,
unproportionate, somewhat alien.
I try to push the frozen bars,
click of fingers, gun-like pop,
chains have fallen off the gate,
inviting the unrelenting force
of a frozen wind, crushing,
against the armor of my chest.
I yield and take a knee
to hold on to my essence
and my hair.
I lost the hair but kept the soul,
sacrifice to see beyond.
Trembling and naked,
I enter the diabolical arena covered by the black.
I taste this thick and bitter darkness,
on top of my frostnip lips.
I stretch the shaking hand,
to feel the trail, to walk the path,
but I stumble
and fall further,
even deeper in the hole,
screaming, wanting home.
As I plunge
I see the enormous set of eyes,
burning, following the bumpy trajectory
of my ragdoll body.
Centaur is hungry for the scream,
sat silently for centuries or more,
waited for his meal, featuring my weakness.
I can’t contend against this beast,
I lost my weapon, lost my pride,
frozen, laying on the stomach,
almost dead, defeated.
Those burning orange eyes
start whipping solid skin off my spine,
with a knout made of the divine
battle stallion mane.
It’s burning but it’s warming,
boiling blood and heating soul,
I feel alive, I want it more, so give it all you got,
awake me from this slumber,
you ugly ancient beast.