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Tainted Rhythms Again

a shaky thrill courses in my blood
incense stinging my nostrils,
sweet and hot and soothing,
like bloodshed on a summer night.
the smoky air lies silkily against me,
deliciously intimate.
only the woad-hued spirals and sigils,
wetly glistening,
deny my skin its touch.

the calling has begun;
maddening flute-howls
and percussive bellows.
hootings and hollerings
with the cadence of song
prick upright my ears:
my brothers and sisters,
opening the way for me.

my hackles twitch upright;
the ritual gains in strength,
hungry flames licking the charred ceiling
as the torches are lit.
it is almost my time.
twisted fingers -- my own?
caress smooth cool stone
these rocky walls
our caern,
our sacred place
I have walked here before
Father willing, I shall walk here again.
but the drums are calling,
and it's time to go.

I set my feet before the painted spiral
in the center of all spaces
my siblings all around,
singing the way for me.
the sweet music of the sacrifices
in my ears,
my dripping fingers clasp tight
around an anonymous globbet
juicy flesh and splintered bone
consumed without thought
while sucking in the sacred smoke...

eyes closed,
my world is darkness,
like Father's,
the Darkness of Potential,
the Blackness of Possibility,
the Emptiness of Fullness.
I hear the Rite Masters rise,
feel their gentle talons
but I do not feel
the Markings
as they make me acceptable --
Father's blessing.

my own blood
mixes with the sacrifice's
(which I have consumed)
at my feet,
dripping onto the first line
of the Spiral.

the air clicks
as the pieces slide into completion.

momentary silence,
temporary but complete,
claims all.

without me,
my feet
take the first step.

sound resumes
like thunder crushing the rain
in the wake of lightning.

another step.
my part begins:
the drums are calling
it's time to walk
the Wyrm is calling
it's time to dance
as I have done
three times before

dance myself to death
that I may live again
dance the world to its death
that it may live again.

deja-vu?
I think I've heard
this song before...

(tainted
rhythms
again.)

Author notes

Option 7.

A contest entry

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    • Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments

1 - 6 of 6

  • Catacomb
    August 29
    Edit | Reply
    Well done. Thanx for entering.


  • Sunkissed xo
    November 15, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Wow. What an intense write! It is dark and full of mystery and uncertainty yet at the same time it is quite majestic and full of expectation. The imagery here is great - if a little disgusting at times
    Anyway, this is a wonderful fantasy write. Well done! Thanks so much for entering my contest
    peace ♥


  • Darkwell
    October 26, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Once again class we see the usefullness of incorporating music into our spells

    the sweet music of the sacrifices
    in my ears,
    my dripping fingers clasp tight
    around an anonymous globbet

    This poem is lovely and evokes passion and strength coupled with a letting go of all worldly belonging to pass into a trance. this is advanced witchcraft. a weekend pass to honeydews and 15 points to slytherin

  • davidwright silver member
    October 23, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    This almost reminds me of a native american prayer celebrating a spiritual journey. Thanks for being a contestant and happy trails


  • PassionsPromise gold member
    October 18, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Bravo. Great take on the prompt. Best wishes in the contest. Enjoyed this read.

    Passionspromise

1 - 6 of 6