Lend Me the Assassin

What memories have etched this incision in the night?
My heart will crumble without a reason in the night.

The throbbing in the air is the labour of my breathing,
Tenor of the sighs is a petition in the night.

Icebergs implode like a caldera of miseries,
The tranquil marina is a prison in the night.

The splinters of my grief are a burst of starfish,
Scattered on the seaside like lesions in the night.

The wind was a friend when the wind was an enemy,
The fellowship was a weird indecision in the night.

The crown was foisted on a perfidious mermaid,
Lend me the assassin of the season in the night.

Malice of the machete meanders under minarets,
The morsel was once a heathen in the night.

Shrapnel whistle through the barbed line of enemy,
Your God is a nuclear perdition in the night.

You will be hanged like a puppet on the scaffold,
Uma your serenade is a treason in the night.

(Image Credit: Kiều Trường)

22 comments

  1. This brings up huge feelings inside that want to explode out. I’m sure it is my own experiences it is making me think about, and yours are very different, but when I read a poem like this, I think how much we are all so different, but really want the same things.

      1. I think there’s power in dichotomy. The Dionysian structured within the Apollonian is a Nietzschean example. “The tranquil marina is a prison in the night.”
        – Great line symbolising the peace and the bedlam.

Won't you say something, old friend?