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Vitæ
Poems
Mar 10
Blade
His blade
is a stainless mirror
with edges tempered
to bend and breathe
a mortal whisper.
It cuts perfectly inside
the one who crosses the night,
restlessly tearing its blinding veil
for a glimpse of tomorrow's light.
The wanderer sleeps
with the enemy within,
ready to pierce his life
in a single dream
and so he enters —unafraid,
the endless doors of undoing,
for all that empties into the blade
is a lightness of his own becoming.
Deep the wounds may be
yet he never bleeds;
His blade is an undying breath
when Death follows beyond him.
#blade
#dream
Written by
Vitæ
28/F/Here
(28/F/Here)
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