Personal Mythos

I can not heal this wound
I fought and won
I limp home
Its never like this in the stories
It hurts

I lie down
I am descended into the Darkness
Screaming into the Darkness

At the threshold of this Nightmare
I meet the Dragon big as the World
A thing of Darkness and Myth
A coiling of smoke and a river of razor
Thousands of razor teeth
A hunger that has eaten up all the World
Hunger that has eaten even itself until
only the mouth and the hunger remain

I am there above the abyss
I run but run a men run in dreams
Its coming up behind me and I turn
I raise my weapons
And am cut to bits
I am falling into the abyss as dissociated bits
The Dragon was fragmented in the process of the struggle
and its bits also fall intermingling with bits of me

The bits are sad they have lost control and can never be re-assembled
The bits are in total darkness and there are no longer boundaries of self and other
The bits of dragon are intermingling with the bits of what used to be me
The roots of green things from the World of Light are burrowing down
into this dark place rich with the debris of what used to be me
The root tips that touch the parts of what were formerly me die
I can not nourish them
There are worms burrowing through the muck lining the bottom of the abyss
and when the worms eat the bits of me they choke and die
The worms decompose and become muck and rot
The currents of the waters stir the muck
Stir with torrential songs
And where the songs touch the muck that used to be me they die
I am death incarnate and there is great peace in this silence

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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