Treasure Finders
Trail of bloodletting
Hurting,
a ritual.
Needing bloodletting
For absolution..
Till one day
it ceases to work.
Bloodhounds scent fresh wounds
They eternally chase
Round and round the cold grecian urn
In
Stony silence. ..
From a distance
It all looks graceful
Ritualistic rite of passage
Initiating the fresh victim into
Ancient bondage.
I stopped somewhere
In the middle of east of Eden
The Shadow stopped too
frozen in mid pursuit.
The fangs bared reminded me that animal instincts
are preserved in our bloodstream
from prehistory.
Baying at the moon
Scent of blood on my toes
And I finally howled back.
Leave me alone
Begone ancient gardener
Of ripped out hearts
And reaper of lost souls.
Trembling before me a portal of dim visibility
Wavering like time's arrow
Forward and back
The abyss of immortals
Who have crossed the terrain
Of djins and genies
Bypassed the vampire and werewolf
And taken the daring
Leap
Life's onetime initiation
straight from the
Incubus of art
To
the heart of legend.
And through the sunken gates
Of Atlantis
I held my head high
And walked below the waterline watery grave
Cradled my courage
Till faith was born
At
Unfathomable depths
Finally lifting my waterborne swollen shell
My impressionable body of innocence
To hold the basking sun
Freed from all artifice
Forever.
Within my still bleeding fingers
Coagulated the heart of the ocean
Gold and diamond dust sieved
From a rusted blood letting.
Treasure finders on cold ocean floors
Where Titanic and departed lovers slept.
Meeting in dreams.
All rights reserved
(c) Amrita Valan 2014
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