Mother once said to use Sage To dissipate every deformed stranger To an incredible ounce of nothingness I needed it now. For the silent intruder created unseen footprints In the aged, varnish-stained floors He was pale and cloaked A frequent intruder trampling my mind. With no restraint, destruction. I stole fatherβs lighter Without his permission, ignoring the consequences The red-orange embers engulfed the slender herb Exhaling smoke that encompassed Every inch of the old room Tapestry on the walls Ancient calligraphy pained, stained As his face appeared to meβ¦(startled)
Fingers weakened, letting go Letting the sage spread its embers aglow The tapestry ribbed, shredded, Beauty destroyed by the good flame. Doors locked and windows unopened Just me, in the old room Two beings died that night.