The Wolves of Midwinter

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Angelic Crucifixion

The mournful church bells weep
Then slowly the wail ceases
Along with the broken gasps
Of the Fallen boy
Laying against the inanimate body
That belonged to the boy’s lover

The figure’s former smile
Now has vanished with the amorous energy
That once possessed the empty vessel
If the abandoned boy still listened closely,
He could hear his lover’s lyrical voice
Stringing together some semblance of hope

Suddenly the church bells awakened
From their restive place
And pierced the air with irrational alarm
Along with it, the gutturals of impassioned villagers
Echoed the feelings voiced by the bells
The villagers still needed to crucify one more
To preserve the illusion

The demeaned boy felt a soaring fear
Rise over his morose thoughts
He became awash with more fright
For the riled masses
Assembled Below the hilltop
Where he still grieved for his
Lover’s demise

They soon congregated along the hill’s bottom
Their faces were alike,
Cast in a malevolent light
From the fire of their torches

Altogether, the flames
Swung madly atop the torches and were
About to extinguish
Because the crowd had forgotten
The advantages of a candle flame
Preserved with love and care

A preacher roused the crowd’s anger
By feeding their primal energy
With abominable depictions of the gravest sinner,
The preacher spoke detachedly about the emasculated boy’s sadness
While, he bellowed triumphantly for the lover’s murder

In front of him, the blazes of the torches
Seemed to grow in height
Behind the opaque blanket of fire,
The faces of the villagers were brightened
At the prospect of rightfully killing
The sinful fiend,
Crying dispassionately for his incubus’s departure

Alarmed, the boy mewled
Chastening himself for the legions of death
Bursting with flames below
Seizing his lover’s bloodied form
He held the fractured form aloft
Then locked his lips
On the lifeless lips of the corpse

Predictably, the crowd applauded his actions
With projectile torches
Sharply colliding with the boy
Knocking him and the lover
Upon each other while the flames
Passionately entwined them and licked them
During which, the boy screamed painfully
As the flames finally shredded their skins

Finally, the crowd clapped, enthralled
With the spectacle of the torched twosome
Some of them gave a silent prayer of Thanksgiving
For the deaths of two unholy aberrations
While, the preacher himself, discomforted
Averted his sanctified eyes
Though he still gave one feigned cheer
Of joyfulness over this successful witch burning

Several people still hear the revelry  
Sounding from this long forgotten tragedy
Unnumbered among the mess of unrecognized sins
Amidst it, some sensitive ears
Still hear the lover’s hopeful lament,
The lovers’ exultant shouts
Then their distraught cries
And finally, their last, relieved breaths
Signaling their final release











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