I walked the steps that Aramais built,
His bones settling still in the dampness of the dream.
My mouth was hidden in dry wrappings of the dead,
For the shroud hid that which Unspoken covet so.
In my hands I carried the only weapons permitted,
The pen and book,
For those like me,
Chroniclers from the Skin of the World,
We avoid the horror of this land ‘neath,
With the sultry promise of immortality,
And the desperate wish to be remembered.
By appeasing the Flesh-that-Walks,
and the never-born Black Sun,
I can glance the true Deep of my own soul,
Which takes the shape of a drop of blood,
Falling endlessly like my own tears.
In this horror-land,
Where ancient gods walk to die,
I will find myself.
Prompt: from the kind writers over at the pub, dVerse, “Fear” as part of their Haibun Monday Series.
Wow, evocative write.
Happy Monday
Much💜love
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Thank you so much. I just let go this time.
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A brilliant, imagistic, poetic haibun. You captured the fear beautifully toward the end of the verse, and in the haiku!
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You are simply too kind! Thank you.
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The weapons of “pen and book” to walk the “horror-land” to not only survive but understand the “Deep” of the soul. Love the symbolism in the poem!
pax,
dora
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Thank you kindly, Dora – your words give me the strength to carry on in this horror-land.
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I love the epic feel of your haibun. You arm yourself with words well. Pleased to find your blog. K.
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Thank you. It’s all just a jumble, but I’m glad there’s enough connective tissue there to grasp the “feel” of something grander.
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Beautiful and haunting! Well written Masa… 🙂
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Beautiful and Haunting is always my aim, thank you kindly.
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A well-penned haibun …..
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I try. Only very slightly, but I do.
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Wonderful expressed on that fear, I feel that you are on a journey that will end in a brighter place.
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Let’s certainly hope so!
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