The Great Magician

Nothing but ruins. Like a rope at my throat: the sorrows. Witness these skies speeding to sunrise. I want you to be a great magician. I want you to save me. Desire burns like anguish in me. You have the sunfire’s wounded fury. Desire burns like devastation in me. All but the chamber of your arms tarnishes me. The demiurges are either dead or sleeping. Estranged from the constant stars, we must mutate to survive this life, and I am desire in metamorphosis. My absent great magician. Dark rains fall on asphalt like ceaseless heartbeats. On serpentine streets, I am a wild being fallen to dreams. Desire—the anguish is burning right through me like sunrise searing the sills. I shrink before the light. I’m too sensitive for this life. I imagine a knife at my spine every time I say who I am. Clarity is a barricade against the reaches of darkness, and who am I in that vastness? Who is it that witnesses me in ecstasy? Who is it that keeps me eternally in need? Restless being, I let everything tarnish me. You look at me like I am the only wounded one but I know the world where I come from. War is a wager. Day after day, I bargain with blades. My great magician, I want you to save me from the burden of Being. The anguish! Like the voices of roaring seas, I am screaming with sublime need, and who will free me? In fanged grasses, snakes are starving after flesh. Desire obliterates me with this divine death, ecstasy. What torture is memory. Marvel at the fallen. Witness your ruins. Child of fire, unraveling in sunrise —it was survival, not life. The constellations are flaming. I am creating wastelands again, but I cannot be stopped this time. Bestowed with more than most, and I’m still lost because of what I chose, and who knows where I will go, and who will follow? I wish I were burning with Icarus wings in sunrise. I wasted my life with a fear of flight. Shrinking before the burden of arriving light—it was survival, not life.