Augury

When the sunlight streamed from the Aesirs' blood,
And the winter of four seasons died alongside the sacred wolves,
I'm sure you were there.
And I'm sure you laughed indelicately at the world's lovely melancholy, thinking:
"Beauty itself is sorrow, therefore all sorrow is, in itself, magnificent;
The end is nigh."

Your memory must be boundless as the Gods,
Just as my naivete is vaster than the stars.
But you never held it against me, because you knew that I embodied the anguish of she who is too wise too young.
And while I was never your inamorata, I think there was something about me you loved in your way.
I can sense that
The end is nigh.

To me, you are the sun;
You bring life into the shadowy crevices of despair, and you leave the meanings of your boons indecipherable.
Yet you alone are my Hades; a sovereign of wealth and bitter cruelty,
And your zealots immortalize your unearthly beauty,
While I stumbled blindly through life, intoxicated with my presumption,
Bastardizing your repute.
It doesn't matter.
The end is nigh.

You were diablerie manifest, hidden behind the guise of extraordinary splendor and feigned kindness.
I knew all the while, but terror and love tore my voice from my throat.
I've come to know the two are one and the same.
And when the shades of your lost loves torture your every movement,
Am I ever there, too?
You seem to know every answer, but I know something you don't:
The end is nigh.

When you spend the nights alone in your empty fortress,
Surrounded by nothing but your tapestries and your bloody victories,
Does the ghost of your conscience rise from the grave to haunt your bed?
I'm nothing but a vagrant, and my song is not that of a sorceress, yet you beseech me to save your mind from the demon of insanity.
I know that your soul is hidden in the shadows of someone's grimy closet.
You built hell with your own hands, and the spirit of destruction resides within your walls, not my heart.
I feel it in my essence;
The end is nigh.

Surely you are lonely, with nothing but memories to keep you warm,
But your refined smile and dark laughter cloak your true heartache.
I would happily give you my sunlight, and plunge my world into a frozen cell for you,
Though you, you deny it all, grinning maliciously and telling me of your dreams- cruel, material fantasies achieved at the expense of others.
I've heard your nightmares, though, and I want you to know that my nights, too, are robbed by insomnia,
And I confess my darkest dreams were of tearing the subtlety from your cheeks with my nails.
I'm not so certain anymore, but I feel a sickening dread.
The end is nigh.

In my incubuses I am never certain whether we are so different, you and I.
The creature Jealousy stalks the borders of my vision, as I huddle, alone as you are, praying for release,
Praying for an acknowledgment that will come days too early, and eons too late.
And I only hope that you see me differently than I see myself, and that the years will fall swiftly on my head,
And that Death will come quickly, carrying his scythe, bringing me, doubtlessly, back to you.
But God listens to my prayers with half an ear,
And he laughs at me.
I've come to hate the sun. But it's all the better, I suppose.
The end is nigh.

Sometimes I almost weep for you, tears fallen on my angry angel.
But I have cried enough salty rain, and they were my own.
I have no more pain to share.
I miss you. But I am guilt-stricken for allowing you to have power over me.
A thousand times I've sworn never to think of you again.
And a thousand times my oaths have been broken.

When mighty Rome fell to the vandals once-inconsequential hand,
And the rubble of a once great empire slipped into the sands, that, as it's future
Was vague and wind-blown,
I'm sure you were there.
And I'm sure you smiled that damnable smile, and said,
"Rain surely falls on the just and the unjust. The woman will be as all women are; that is to say, she will be a godless liar."
I finally see with burning clarity.
Your end cannot come soon enough.

-by Krajki