The Fool stands on the precipice of the
unbridled chaos, barking madly on the
wake of his cliff.
He stands facing the sun, so the shadows
fall behind him, back into the primal black
that melts between all of the worlds.
He feels his heart being given the breath
of wide anticipation; the precusor of
something frightful and great.
Given, on the whisper, of a motherly wind.
Below, the abyss yawns;
rolling thunder 'neath its cloudy sheets,
a taunting growl from the path yet untravelled.
Tempered, our Jester strikes a sulphur headed
match; summoning lightening in his soul.
Embers of passion flicker through his bones.
Soft, unworn feet hold tight the verge,
watching the hallowe'ed unknown below.
The Fool jumps, or falls, only he can know.
It is the way, he is the host. Happily.
Comments
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This was a really beautiful write! There was so much imagery and I loved all the description you used. Every phrase was just beautifully crafted!
I really liked this one in particular
"Embers of passion flicker through his bones."
Great Wriite!!
Crazy-Love♥ -
Wonderful! This has some truly great phrasing and imagery. I like the personification of the abyss, it "yawns" and "growls" - that was great! I think the phrasing in the last line of your fourth stanza is a little awkward though -
"a taunting growl from the path yet untravelled"
I think this might make more sense if it was either "path untravelled" or "path yet travelled". Unless this is something that you have done on purpose. That is the only critique I can offer! I really loved this piece, thanks for sharing!
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This is awesome! I've never read a piece quite like this before! And I gotta say, its a breath of fresh air, lovely work! Thanks for sharing
x
Keep writing
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