by Not Suki
A free verse poem about a goddess of time who lost her powers for falling in love.
|Long gone had the patience and mercy of the higher gods faded in my being—
This SICK and HORRID LIFE I've been living.
SANS is my sight; SANS is my light; SANS is my strength and former power.
Lacking the mercy of this sad, sad world that I pity.
And all because of a man.
I speak of this as is you—unwavering.
I speak of this as a woman—full of grace.
I speak of this as now a sinner—non compos mentis.
As my plum scratched the surface of yet another world,
creating another dimension,
creating another verse—I stopped.
My hand failed me as it quivered with angst.
I, a neophyte in the hands of human emotion untied
my cravat—the gift of the Divine aristrocracy—
Taking it off of my already rashed, frail neck
in my weakened, fragile fingers
and unto your own—
The man who romanced me in my era of time
As the Goddess of Time.
I’ve forgotten about you; I thought I had.
But these pathetic sentiments refuse to delight me with success,
Neither will these biological impulses forged by my brother
For having met you, giving a human immortality.
I hate them.
I hate everything.
I hate you.
I remembered the thick strokes of the unfortunate pen I threw in enragement.
The pen ne’er broke, it cracked—sounding mere crepitations.
How I got this information, I cannot say for certain,
much more if it were whitened in our purity.
From what I say is the truth I perceive to be true;
That my senses,
my sight is no more.
I can ne’er be taught to live with the entire summation
of every man’s perspective
Like I once had the ability for.
(A/N: If anyone's wondering, 'non compos mentis' in Latin means 'not having control of one's mind' and 'Sans' means 'without' or 'lacking'.)