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The Emperor's Dream
12) Child of Dust

12) Child of Dust

I went in search of peace

in the cast down temples

of old religions, finding in their

quiescent

cobweb-corridor-deaths,

echoes of

my own stillness.

I nodded to the wind’s words

and the tale told

of promises forgotten in

half-light dawns,

kneeling down to drink

from blood-troughs

filled by wars fought in the name

of ideals.

I went in search of meaning,

finding slivers of myself

between the ash-worms, creeping

in and out of bony shells,

the wreck of a world

forsaken by faith.

They dragged me out of the ruins,

holding up a broken idol -

covered in filth and blood-

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and told me that I blasphemed,

and they beat me to the ground.

I turned from their stones and

fled to the horizon, seeking a place

where a rogue might find his place.

And I saw reflected in mirrors

and raindrops,

shards of something I could not know.

I went in search of truth

and found it, bleeding words

of hatred from a wish for love.

I found truth unsheathed,

loosed from a scabbard

of sorrow and regret,

wishing for death,

theirs and mine.

And the steel of their madness

drove into me

again and again

the agony

of an abandoned world

gouged out my eyes

tore off my ears

and ripped out my tongue

Until I shattered,

wandering into the abyss

blind, deaf and dumb,

set free from

the world of hatred,

to fade into

a hollow nothing.