Poem: A Most Melancholy Grief, A Towering and Vitriolic Rage

My heart has shattered

A crunch of shards underfoot

The faintest susurrus of powdered fragments

Drifting away in the breeze

Kin has been lost

Kith that will never return

They all remain, so silent

Dwelling in memories

The tears are cool

Heating quickly on a late summer day

Eyes left raw, red-rimmed

Declaring sorrow for all those with presence to see

Thousands shall mourn

The beloved who have left

I indulge in the weakness that is strength

Giving over to an invisible wound

Craving to reach out

To grasp the hands of those with crumbling hearts

As we attempt to drown the world

Emptying our sight of moisture

In a like space

There is a stirring in my blood

Those people long gone

Who went before we who walk today

There is little of them left in me

Diluted with time

Yet

Their fury is stoked in my bones

A rage growing deep in my soul

Sucking wind through clenched teeth

The flow of the body’s humours a rising heat

Rising to a boiling pitch

Wroth at such audacity

That life should steal so many beautiful souls from me

From me

Wulf, gone now these many years

Another little brother consumed by despair

Drink took another, drowning demons we did not know

A weapon of war took her

Though not on a battlefield

She was a warrior yet, in her own right

Valkyries had best formed ranks

Showering her with honour

An escort guard to see her safely home

But again, the audacity

Stealing my darlings from my life

One by one, a few here, more over there

My eyes shifting from gray to green

Scintillating backwards and forwards

Breathes hissed through still clenched teeth

How dare they steal from me

Me, who stands ready to rip the trees from their earth

I love them all, every one that I have made space

Filling this battered heart with my adoration

Of those I welcome in

The hand to my right itches for the sword

Fingers on the left flexing, searching for an axe

Questing for what spirit of the air

Dared to lay hand on my loves

Snatching away siblings, not of blood

But of choice

I found them

I saw there magnificence

I dwelt in the glory of their light

Only to find myself ready in the moment

To bring arms against whatsoever robs me of them

The North Men

The Painted Men

The Men of the Five Provinces

All wait, silent and stoic

To see how much of them remains within me

One thought on “Poem: A Most Melancholy Grief, A Towering and Vitriolic Rage

Add yours

  1. Our kind loves so strongly. And when they are taken. Away. It hurts. Oh my God, it hurts. A few years ago a friend of mine died. More like family. It physically hurt. I doubled over in pain. Tears are now flowing recalling it. Tears I didn’t think I had.

    Still wishing I could hug you long and tight.

    Liked by 1 person

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