i. Ἔρεβος

What wonders the brain must create
when the heart ceases.
There must be light in the darkness
for one cannot exist without the other.
Maybe she, sadly anonymous,
of whom I have written before,
is waiting for me, a dusky silhouette,
standing in the pathos of Erebus
with arms outstretched, whispering my name.
She will be my elation,
but I will be her sadness,
for I, as is my wont,
have moved on and forgotten.

ii. Mνημοσύνη

Having moved on and forgotten,
I found memory had struck me,
a piercing blow in my eyes,
the vague, sepia recollection
of the clichéd seaside holiday,
where I took a photograph of her;
she was topless and tanned,
but my memory died
with Mnemosyne watching me
as I drank from the Lethe
and felt Erebus overwhelm me.

iii. Γαμημένη

When Erebus overwhelmed me
I realised something.
I hadn’t forgotten her,
hadn’t moved on,
hadn’t become stuck,
nor had I missed her.
Mnemosyne fucked me.
She stole from me what was rightfully mine
and passed it on to someone else.
He was shown the photographs
and assumed he had been there
because it was his face in them,
not mine, where it should have been.
I don’t grieve because he grieves.
What else has been taken?
Who am I?
If this isn't WotW, then butts. Great piece, definitely deserves more views.
Last edited by JustRooster at Mar 19, 2012,
The dark horse of the forums crushes us once again.

"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

Thank you to that clandestine group for acknowledging my abstractions. That is why I do what I do.

EDIT: Also thanks to AG for resurrecting the almost two-year-old In Sickness... last month. I am positively dripping with pride, and indeed humility.
Last edited by Dæmönika at Mar 20, 2012,