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 father’s 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 me…(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.