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- ORACLE
- 2020-11-01
- ***
- a hand reaches out
- through the sands of time
- and you know not how
- or even a why
- but some long-unsettled
- beast prowls in your chest
- and you take the hand wary
- at its fervent behest
- and it pulls you through Void
- metaclysma, Abyss
- a sun-sunken world
- veiled by delicate mist
- there on the cliffs
- Kidasuna stands
- and asks you to hold out
- your scar-laden hands
- a book with torn pages
- and sentences severed
- paper edges curling from
- exposure to harsh weather
- who was I before the pangs
- of my malformed heart?
- who was I before the world
- deigned to tear me apart?
- the future is hazy
- like our surroundings
- and she cannot discern
- what lies ahead.
- ***
- CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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