The Monster in the Mirror (VI)

There are two figures atop a summer hilltop
It is day... and sometimes night
One is a priest sitting in the grass
The other is a soldier swinging with their sword
They both have a Monster on their back

Their Monsters whisper of what they are
And what they shall become... what they shall not do.
The priest weeps for the fall of everything
The soldier laughs at the challenge of victory
The summer will be long

The two sit quietly unlike their world
Next to each other...
Ten thousand ways apart.
The priest wears black by nature
The soldier wears color by choice

The Monster knows me well
The Monster is my father
The Monster is my desire
But I vouch
The Monster shall never be my child

The Fighter

A powerful thing you are

A beautiful thing

Born and made of Violence

You are sworn to it

Both a captive and a politician of it

You are the fighter

Every stomp and quiet step you take is a battle

Take them! Take them on I say!

The children the parents the dictators and the lovers

Show them your dominion

Inform them of your power over them

They shall not pass and you shall stand above

Scars? What of them?

You flash them brazenly like all your bloodied comrades

"Chicks dig scars" and P.S. Fuck Off

Yes I hear you and thus I will not assume an iota of you

You are complex, impenetrable on all fronts

You are the fighter

Fight for your power so they know you never fell

Fight for your friends and family so they may never be touched

Fight for the weak under your wings

Fight for your survival

Fight the sex that destroys and vanquish it

Fight the men with their own swords

Your gloves are as iron as your will

The arena you've built is astounding and vast

The walls feel cagey like iron; like your gloves; like your will

Gripping the walls peering through the spaces I think I see you

Your swing is percussive and piercing

I've no doubt your stamina outlasts entire stars

Your arena is vast.

The Monster Rewards (V)

The spring blossoms with uncertain tones of light and shadow

The days and the nights are no more

The Monster is my father

All the words and wants and imagined worlds;

A shade of blue or black on the grounds of EveryCity

An appalled universe no longer knows us

"Do you recognize it?"

"You are now a warrior"

"On the grounds you command"

As fair Dennis called me General

And soul-sworn colleagues offered honor,

Rendered their loyalty to my broken spine

Bestowed me with relics of a kinship

All in heavy expectation.

So withered by his own power

"Did I not promise you a universe?"

"Did I not promise you a god?"

I am empowered and swollen and uncontrolled

Becoming lost; devoured by something else entirely

Buckling once more

The Monster cast out a heavy wing

And I hide in the shadow of its amnesty

Where all the tears and mournings and dark days are cast in still iron

Time drips intravenously 

"Some day, but not today."

Laconic, drifting, I rattle my mind at duality

"It is necessary"

I wonder what we are, the Monster and I

"We are the importance of nightfall"

We are dark

"The contrast that ensures certainty"

Is summer upon us?