Tag: creative writing

Prompt Day 15

In some cultures legends

The killing blow of a previous life.

Some say stork bites, other say nothing at all.

My father, myself, my son and daughter

All have the same one.

Strawberry stain on the neck.

Were we rebels in France

And all got the guillotine?

Or all facing firing squads

For crimes against the crown?

I can hide it with my hair

But of the truth I am aware,

I see it in everything

Even in this birthmark.

I am a blemished and imperfect sacrifice

And you, you were perfect lacking nothing

And took upon yourself, every killing blow.

– Vagabond Prophet

I’ve no sense of direction
You provide me with wind to find my way
Holding wet fingers up high following your breath.

All sound is born from silence
And you created both.
Only you could dash me to pieces
And have it somehow leave me whole.

Vagabond Prophet

Atlas

An Atlas problem, back once broken

Beneath the gravity of everything,

One came and took my burden

The crushing load of life and sadness and sin.

You took it and took it so well,

No more world upon my back!

My hope begins to wax,

Yet my spine still slopes

It may take time, more than this lifetime

For my body to straighten.

I still find that boredom breeds only treachery,

In the serfdom of my heart

The beggars still start riots,

However bigger and above and transcendent!

By your melodies I escaped the weight of tragedy,

And in your sanctuary I’ll bend back to shape.

In your joy you’ll quiet this mutineers heart.

– Vagabond Prophet