Rise From Hearts Of Dead Men
© Surazeus
2019 01 24
After the horseman shoots arrows of hate
to kill my father and my seven brothers,
piercing their hearts that bleed on the dry land,
I run and hide in shadows of despair.
The sun gleams blood-red in the flashing sky
as I hold my breath in the tangled bush
by the burbling creek, where I often played
laughing with joy as we ran with the wind.
So many bright afternoons we explored
enchanting glitter of the winding stream,
but now strange terror flashes in my heart
as I hear my brothers screaming in pain.
Quiet evening of twilight darkens fields
as crickets sing in waves of ecstasy
that rend my heart like iron plow digs soil,
while I make myself disappear from light.
After sitting for hours in twilight glow,
till screams of my brothers fade in the wind,
the horseman gripping taut bow in his hand
clicks his tongue so his horse trots from the field.
The world shines indifferent to my despair,
I whisper as I huddle by the stream
and watch the moon rise from hearts of dead men
and drip blood of rain on the thirsty world.
Yanking sharp arrow from heart of my father,
I creep through song of crickets by the stream
to find the horseman sitting in our house
and drinking fresh wine from grapes of our field.
The horseman pushes me against the wall
to fill my fertile womb with his quick sperm,
but as he thrusts in urgency of passion
I thrust the arrow into his soft heart.
Standing silent in the dark empty house,
I watch the horseman writhe in agony,
thrilling to his screams of heart-rending pain
as he dies the same way my family died.
Staring at my face in the glittering stream,
heart aching from loneliness of my loss,
I see face of young man looking at me,
the son of the horseman seeking his father.
I killed your father, I explain to him,
because your father killed my father first,
so we kneel together by our dead fathers
and kiss as we weep from our agony.
Face to face under the indifferent sun,
we kiss and make love among the grape vines,
then walk together by the glittering stream,
and teach our children the secret of love.
© Surazeus
2019 01 24
After the horseman shoots arrows of hate
to kill my father and my seven brothers,
piercing their hearts that bleed on the dry land,
I run and hide in shadows of despair.
The sun gleams blood-red in the flashing sky
as I hold my breath in the tangled bush
by the burbling creek, where I often played
laughing with joy as we ran with the wind.
So many bright afternoons we explored
enchanting glitter of the winding stream,
but now strange terror flashes in my heart
as I hear my brothers screaming in pain.
Quiet evening of twilight darkens fields
as crickets sing in waves of ecstasy
that rend my heart like iron plow digs soil,
while I make myself disappear from light.
After sitting for hours in twilight glow,
till screams of my brothers fade in the wind,
the horseman gripping taut bow in his hand
clicks his tongue so his horse trots from the field.
The world shines indifferent to my despair,
I whisper as I huddle by the stream
and watch the moon rise from hearts of dead men
and drip blood of rain on the thirsty world.
Yanking sharp arrow from heart of my father,
I creep through song of crickets by the stream
to find the horseman sitting in our house
and drinking fresh wine from grapes of our field.
The horseman pushes me against the wall
to fill my fertile womb with his quick sperm,
but as he thrusts in urgency of passion
I thrust the arrow into his soft heart.
Standing silent in the dark empty house,
I watch the horseman writhe in agony,
thrilling to his screams of heart-rending pain
as he dies the same way my family died.
Staring at my face in the glittering stream,
heart aching from loneliness of my loss,
I see face of young man looking at me,
the son of the horseman seeking his father.
I killed your father, I explain to him,
because your father killed my father first,
so we kneel together by our dead fathers
and kiss as we weep from our agony.
Face to face under the indifferent sun,
we kiss and make love among the grape vines,
then walk together by the glittering stream,
and teach our children the secret of love.
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