Ouroboros

I felt

a morning breeze

drag its fingers

across my face;

a gentle wake up call,

before the heavy hand

of the day would fall.

 

I climbed up out of Hell,

just as I did every morning

and I

took a look around.

Somehow,

the whole world had changed

on me again.

 

Slow, subtle

insinuations,

sober reflections;

changing

me inside my skin

and then I shed it

like a serpent

crawling up the mountain

every morning

to devour the Sun.

 

I am not a

brilliant vision.

I am bone

and I am sin.

Gained perspective,

gleaned some purpose,

a little introspection

and I’m no longer

running circles.

Pointless problems

of my creation,

fell upon the blade

of a timely reaper,

harvesting the dead and gone.

 

Make me a new thing

on a new day,

under the same old sky.

This is a new sun,

a new rising;

never to come again.

Just as faded

as my heroes,

I am moving in my skin;

developing a new identity

for the new day coming.

 

The day has come;

come out,

come out.

Devour the Sun

and let a new day dawn.

Come out,

come out.

Shed that old skin

and climb the mountain.

Time is the edifice.

 

HG – 2017

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