Messenger, Be Gone

By: Gus Victoria

Tortured messenger beyond the shade of knowledge

You toil in memory to keep alive

That which best is forgotten.

A spark here sets aflame

An inferno of regret

That casts dancing shadows of doubt

To play on the face of the fateful beauty

To whom we’ve given all.

We drink the wine of joy

Soured to despair

Poured by unsteady hands

Into a chalice made

Of once-broken glass.

We drink deep,

And dare not sleep,

For dreams wake

Demons thought slain

That we cast out in vain.

No messenger,

Best be gone,

Leave be the tattered memories,

Leave be the shattered future,

Be gone,

Be gone,

I drink.

Ode to a City, Oh City

Your sun sets on a gaudy stage

The moon rises a lantern

To reflect my rage.

History hidden untouched

Unknown and unseen

By citizen-thieves of a kingdom deprived.

Bourne on tired chromatic wings

Born empty, child of silver,

Aborted dream

Of the deified Dreamer.

You call from a shallow grave

That once was a crib

To a legacy without inheritance,

To a lie surrounded in dust.