Song of Psychomachy

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Flesh greets pavement

Moments after enjoying the view

The first feeling in a long time

Air rushing between teeth

Forcing fleeting tears 

Begging them free 


Yet the eyes never perceive the height


Only faces of the lost 

Flash into the mind's eye

Of the things that have come

And never came to pass


Who feels the rushing air

What sense is that

When the conflict of unprocessed transgressions sting instead

Where have they gone

Where did I go

Why mercilessly tear skin 

When the whips fashioned from "what ifs" can operate themselves?


Choosing the sin of self suffering

Is easier than coping with the transgression of self indulgence 

One can still fall to their knees to beg for resolution of either decision 

Finding peace falls not in to the lap of the perpetrator 

Perpetually sending one into the same spiral over and over 

Once more and once over

The cycle never tires or rests

Nipping the heels of those who do not heal


Although the descent is straight forward

Memory is not so decent


The weary do not find rest

Restless feet move forward

Even when there is no longer a road to walk

Instead choosing briar and bramble

As walking companions

For the feeling of bleeding

Is easier than bearing the weight


To be crushed by the stone 

Is more simplistic than trying to bare the weight

The brunt of it 

Is never considered with such things


I simply seem to have forgotten I've jumped


With no vessel to contain it

It has instead chosen to consume

Wrapping tightly

As to never let go





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