Young Writers Society

27.

History has a habit of
repeating itself in rhyme,
with reason hidden deep
in the heartbeat of the hurt.
There was a sing-song
voice to the slaughter,
some ditty written in blood
spilled on stolen land,
clawed back even bloodier.

To see the face of your father,
fearing that the next time
you met his eyes
it would be atop a pike.

Perhaps, when the tower flared
it was hard to fear retribution.
What is it to make one king
and simply break another?

28.

Ferelden dog was meant as insult.
An easy mistake when you've lived
within the same chained walls
for a life the span of your hands,
never felt the weight of a pup
when it licks your face and _know_
this will be a companion with you
til you're grey.

Bulk and heft seen as naught
but muscle with a broad back,
nothing beyond the bark and bite,
forgetting the same drove back
armies that bred them into being.
Think me the dumb Ferelden dog
left in the filth. Miss the moment,
the brief blinked breath that ends
with canine jaws at your throat.

29.

I know, I saw you sink
into your own reflection,
like glass a lake of light.
Your mirror image slipping
below solid surface to–
someplace? Somewhere?

I still see you in the streets,
in the sharp gold gaze
of every cat that lingers,
watches for a beat too long
before turning tail and
dissolving into shadow whole.

What happened, wild one,
to the other half of my heart?
That fragment you held within
made flesh incarnate.
Is it familiar, the face of
ancient thing wearing new skin?

30.

The blood in the chalice is yet to be blessed.
He holds it, asks for you to fill to the brim
this man, the closest you've had to family,
a father's hand on the shoulder as he sends you
to shepherd lost souls in the wilds.

Drink down this sinner's swill, roll the dice;
see if fate claims you now or gives penance,
time made to slip on stone wet with red
and scramble against the slick of night.
It's heavy on the shoulders, to know inside
you bleed in ichor, stain that whispers quiet
then loud, when time comes to claim you.

That's-a NaPo donezo!

You did it! Congrats on completing the month @tinny! Some lovely poetry in here.

(also I'm super curious if poem 30 is supposed to have Eucharist / Holy Communion vibes or if I was just reading into that. 27 is one of my favorites - I think the idea of history's repetition can be very poetic and you took an interesting take to it.)

Well done!