By Agatha Eliza
My feet have taken me to the stygian realm
where only grey shadows grow,
saw Pluto’s throne covered in dark skin
of ancient warriors, poets, and priests.
oh..how many times
havent’t I thought and wondered why
what was the reason I had to fight..
for, in the night, the sparkle
of my heart has been switched off!
and breath of life became an offering
whilst eyes struggled to break through
a blindfold thicker than the haze;
but a thread guided me across the maze.
I sensed a scent, heard steps behind
a whisper delayed this grief of mine
and a soft quill was given in my hands:
‘please, write some more,
and I will let go
of the lament within your beguilling soul
here’s a chalice…have a sip
before you know, you’ll rise up from sleep! ‘