King Goat Revenants
In depths that pull, Ageless, in the void before time
They come across an aged oak. Now, drawing close
Skinless fingers grip the trunk. The sleeper wakes
Dappled light throws silhouettes on a dilapidated wall
Through scattered leaves, the scent of an unwelcome dawn
Fills the senses, drained of comfort, warmth and hope
And waking stupor, fades too soon
And she's alone again. A spectral form
A tale of loss to tell, Remains untold
When memory finally fades, what of the lost?
If their voices cannot be heard, Alone they'll walk
And hunger for release. Gone, but not at peace
The lives that they once lived, Haunt them, still
What kind of cruelty awaits beyond the waking world?
Illumination denied to chosen few
Uncomprehending. Without an ending
Purgatorial wounds never heal
For the whole of immemorial time that slides slowly by
They are hoping, without knowing why they cannot die
