Had I mentioned his divinity before?
maybe I had, maybe you skimmed,
maybe you forgot,
but I certainly
could not forget.
It was far too engraved
in both the sea of my mind,
and the currents of my words.
Divinity, a term that could be associated
with a greater power,
even something that could be
transcendental,
but divinity to him, to me,
was something far deeper than that.
It was something far more toxic,
something far more sinister
that I couldn’t control,
something that tugged
on my muscles,
bones, joints, and flesh
even when I tried to pull away.
But, his divinity won.
He won and ever so often
I promoted my self-awareness,
my emulating nature to succeed
as a way to win for once,
but I was against a force
greater than that of
the armies of noble,
vicious kings.
He won through one look,
one harsh gaze
that broke through the
cracks of my heart,
plunging its way into
the caverns of my *****,
and it made a home to
nurture the bitterness
and hostility of his
actions and words.
They all sliced at the swell of
my heart,
and even the flesh of
my body,
but divinity healed them.
He healed them even
when he created them.
The words seeped from my lips,
the pleas of admiration
and the pleas of fear
melded into one brew,
crafting a potent mix
that controlled me.
The formidable brew
originated from him,
and it was there that
his instincts were born.
It was there that those instincts
decided to mesh themselves
into my life.
It was there that he
decided that his
divinity was for him
and for me.
His divinity clawed its way
at the epitome of both
my soul, and the duality
of my faithfulness and
self-awareness,
yet I was exempt from both
freedoms
and burdens.
This is the second poem in the Divinity series, the first is Manipulation of Divinity.
