It comes then; those black wings beating
and that wicked thing breathing hard
like a bloated child in a fog;
Like a ballooning bullfrog in a thicket
in and out.
Not as loud as death ought to be, I thought
but then again,
in moonlight everything seems like velvet vines;
like a lover's skinny fingers growing out of the ground -
The wretch will name me then
aloud from a book bound with paper skin,
and in it's time will weigh my sin; and I will wonder
if my dreams are added up against that weight -
or if the rest of me ever
meant anything at all.
It will raise my head to a gold sky,
and on the course I raise and pass
heavenly eyes that know my time is up;
the ticking of my clock has resigned.
deo volente consummatum est
It is finished.
Among that blessed harmony
God's hands I abandon;
remove a testament to prowess,
take the burden we all journey towards
since we stepped out the Garden's gate.
Upon a cloud in paradise, I attest
"I am Lazarus. My soul upon the pedestal,
without form or holy grace, I am him who returns
and brings light upon the dark and empty;
my fate is my own and my will
is my destiny."
Really strong. My only concern is that not many speak Latin, and would have to look up that "deo volente consummatum est" means "God willing it is completed".
Very true. Worth it I think. Latin adds that extra archaic, cathedral feel to written work which is why I apply it occasionally. For instance the words " Spiritus Asper " sound a lot more mysterious and alluring to me than their translation, " The Rough Breathing. " But please don't take this as unkind - I'm really very glad you took time to comment and express your opinion on my work. It's what keeps writers from slacking off and writing about hob-goblins with magic, time travelling gumball machines.