Poem: Ember

[scribblemyname]

for Trish

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gather the angels of the winds of heaven
for the warrior rides forth with no master
and the fires shall bear no restraint
the arrow is drawn from the quiver
sped through the burning of hearts only faster
bloodying with its taint

from the dark and the light and the casting of thunder
ridden with power, tremulous, hidden
sacred the circle of pain
from sweetness and brightness, the singing of bleakness
unwoven, unraveled, in mystery bidden
to walk in the falling of rain

from the bright’ning byres of flaming rebirth
from phoenix fires and death unsung
ring in the day the earth will rue
the wings of heaven lie tattered and riven
cast, like old gods, to the earth and wrung
to make the worlds anew

Originally published at Liana Mir. You can comment here or there.