Wicked (His side) 15

I’ve noticed
These past few days
She often talks about this
mysterious traveler.

“You know? There was once a weak woman
who walked as fast as me
yet she was so weak
That couldn’t even hold a sword.
So hmm, I guess
This brings back old memories.”

She told me as she swung her sword
Towards my feet
Making me fall.
“Pffft”
She kept laughing
As a carefree child.
I should probably be mad
But she has this angelic smile
That I can’t even bring myself to.

As I was on the floor
All sweaty and hurt
Still thrilled to learn
How to wield a sword
And counterattack.
It made me wonder
Who was this wanderer
Which my goddess kept talking about?
She seemed so real
Yet so unreal…

“You know? There once was a woman
Who had no recollection of her past
At least not before her 25th birthday.
She was given a name after that age.
Just like you.”

That was intriguing
What kind of person
Would forget her childhood?..

We left Belgrade as it was falling into ruins
My shackles were destroyed
The moment my Lord passed away.
Turns out
She made a deal with a merchant
A life for a letter
A woman for information.

Since the receiver was dead
She went back to the citadel
To search for the thin piece of paper.
Ashamed, I had to confess
That I was close to my lord…
Closest than any other.
I who was trying to get her approval
I who wanted to be her companion.
The moment I opened my mouth
They shattered
My hopes, my dreams…
My goddess looked intrigued
But said nothing of it
And asked me what I knew.
I felt disappointed by her aloofness
Like wine stinging
At this unclosed wound.
I swallowed saliva
And cleared my throat
Then started talking.

“There was a letter my lord burned
A week ago detailing
A white human beast
Like never seen before
Strong as a hundred knights
And swift as a shooting star…”

I looked at her
And finally realized
What the letter meant.
I kept talking
Her sight never left the moon
As she was hearing every word…

“The sender mentioned to be careful
Not to be greedy for it’s power
That running water should be kept as is.
My lord was confused
By the letter merchant Lupu Neacşu sent
And decided to burn any trace of their dealings.”

When I finished.
She seemed relieved
And looked at me
Smiling as if feeling nostalgic.

“Well, I don’t like 66
And I bet
Your mother would of loved
Another name.
So let me think…
You know?
I have so many questions
But I will leave them for another time.
So let’s see…
Did you know
That you are unique in this world?
You’ve got 3 types of rare bloods in you.
You were not supposed to be born.”

I was astonished at what I heard.
I knew I was weird
Since I heal quick
Don’t have strength
Since my lord
Never let me out of his sight
So training was out of the question.
But maybe…

“So hmm you are like a gift hmm
And your dad was a very unique character
Ugh, I swear
If I knew he would die abandoning you…”

She seemed frustrated
As she was stroking her hair.
And I…
I looked at the floor
With
mixed feelings.
I had never heard of my dad
Or mom
She seems so young
How could she know of them?
It didn’t make sense…

“You were trully a gift to them
Don’t ever forget that.
HA! I got it!
MATHEW
So you won’t forget
You are trully a gift from god.”

She smiled proudly
And gave me comfort
By patting my shoulder.
And I started sobbing
Uncontrollably
To the life I am starting
To my new beginning
Thanks to my goddess
I finally feel
Like I belong in this world…

Broken bridge

Like broken words
I’ve come today
Lost communication
Between you and I.

Like broken woods
Unable to sustain
The heavy weight
Of a lost embrace.

Years have passed
Without a caress
In that path
Lost generations
Forgotten past.

Black bridge
As if not seen
A walk-through
To the other side
By the less known.

Broken bridge
I see you
As a part of me.
Even though
We knew
We only gave it name
We only said, “It’s there.”
But not once
Did we give it care.

A place for photo shoot
For quinceañeras, weddings
And other cultural agendas.
Rio Bravo’s black bridge
History’s mark has passed on
And with it
The memory of us is crushed
Forever gone…

Yet…

I see you
And I see myself
I see a gap
And I feel insecure.

And I see your ideals
As well as all of your deals.
I feel my fears
Yet I try to conceal…

To conceal this dark side of me
So I dance along with you
We are too close
So I see what I’ve become.

I wish to be accepted
So I fly and dance
At the sound of your voice
At the rhythm of your song.

The thing is
Sometimes I wonder
Is this really me?
I do love to fly
I love to dance
I love your voice
The sound of your strings
I definitely love them all.

Yet…

Wicked 14 (His side)

Finally
After six months of torture
Today I will finally get to see her.

I’m nervous…
This feeling reminds me
Of when I first saw her
On that rainy day
500 years ago.

My beam of pure light
The glory of my life

There she stood
Looking at me
While her clothes and bearing
Resembled a dark winter storm
Her skin was white as the snow
Such a thrilling and beautiful soul
Surrounded by a scarlet field
The siege of Belgrade.

I was surrendered at her feet
Not by fear
I’ve been a slave for many years
The horrors I had to deal through
All of those years
Can not compare to the loss
Of my lord who was killed by Suleiman.

No, this is not fear
This is my desire to be her shield
Her spear…

It was out of my control
I just felt my heart racing
Everything else was blurry
Heat invaded my calm demeanor.
Seems like I knew her
Yet it was my first time seeing her.

The sound of her voice
Waves entering my ears
Ecstasy resonating
Through my veins.

“This is a nostalgic smell
You’re that baby boy,
Your mother….”

She looked pained
I wanted to embrace her
And say, everything is ok…

“She would be
So happy to know
You are alive…”

She tilted her head
It reminded me of an owl
A beautiful and majestic
One at that.

“A bit messy, but alive.
So what is your name?”

Her smile welcomed me
A slave barely surviving a war
I wanted to tell her my everything
Yet I am a mere number
I became aware of my self.
Trembling I said,
“I… I am number 66.”
I was ashamed
My heart throbbed uncontrollably.

“Hmm, very well follow me
I will find a proper name
To her son.
And you are no longer a slave
It is your choice.
If you want to follow me
Hear my say
If not let’s part ways.”

She started walking away
dignified with her sword at bay.
On guard just in case…

My goddess of destruction
As well as of creation
I followed her…

Fighting Spirit

Miserable pain
Inflicted within this brain
These thorns piercing
This embodiment of a shell.

This so-called heart
Ripped to pieces
Forgotten reasons
Yet here they are.

Seems so far back
Of these Memories
Of Broken heart
With shattered wings
Too vivid
To let it pass.

Domino’s theory
Heavier as it passes
Yet here I am
Hopeful  of a new light
Leaving this
Hopeless being behind.

Dancing through new horizons
Preparing to fly
Yet stepping
Through new shattered pieces
Left to shatter this fighting spirit.

No
Not any more
Even with bloody soul
And with these pierced soles
Dancing
Elevating
Through night and sun
Even with pain
These wings
Will extend…

And fly
Fly through the sky
With the stars
Shining bright
Like diamonds encrusted
In my armor
My shadow
My long friend and companion…

A Closer Look

*prompt from Howls from el monte

By RRSuperNova

Falling
As I contemplate
That blazing sun
In this mysterious land
The beginning of our clan
Tears running up my head
Some disappearing into my hair
And others evaporating into thin air.

As I approach
That brilliant sand
I start thinking
Of my years past.
I see my ending
Coming fast
Yet I’m glad I could see
This pyramid at last.

The blast
Took out my breath
Broken
I felt at last
Exhausted is my soul
Yet my body
Doesn’t think so.
As if a puppet
I stand and walk
Those difficult steps
And climb to the top
Once again
Feeling the dryness
Of the land
Of history
Miniature years
Piled up sand.
Step and another
As if mere initiation
Questioning this incantation.

Reality
Written hieroglyphs
Passed down into doctrines
Embellished translations
Politics involved
Egocentric involvement
Dogma dismembered.

I’m at the top
Frightening sight
Sun blazingly bright
Horizontal infinity
Beyond sanity
I say
Yet
What a beautiful sight.

That one second
Framed into my soul
To follow
The fall
The tears of joy
As well as shock
Falling again
Into that beautiful sand
I embrace it all.
Even the blasting finale…

Keep Writing

There is a block
In my head
More like a clog
Somewhere in there
I’ve got stories to share
I can feel them
I even live them
I get provoked
By so many emotions
Exasperated
By contradicting
Rights and wrongs
I become vexed
Outraged and enraged
By psychological labyrinths
There is no in between
I shriek and
Shed some extreme
Salty tears
Sometimes from joy
Others from bitterness
That stings the essence
Of existence.

Yet…
They become
Blurred images
Due to my
Word shortage
And will deficiency.

Is it writer’s block?
Who knows
Is it procrastinating?
Bet so…
Even so
Let’s pick up the pen
And keep writing
Who knows
Maybe
A good one will come
Out of lacking words…

Metamorphosis

By RRSuperNova

** This was first published in the 7th volume of The Chachalaca Review

I am the mermaid
That sings her notes
Calling who ever approaches
Enchanting their minds
With imagination
Beyond their sight.

I am that astronaut
That reaches the stars
That breaks them apart
Forming the powder
Of magic itself.

I’m the wizard
That wonders in fantasyland
That comes out of books
And enchants this land.

I am that shape shifter
That hurts all around
That’s beyond comprehension
That’s learning her transformation
And runs towards a new destination.

Yes, I am that princess in distress
That waits for her prince
The savior of her dreams.

I’m also that introvert
That breaks from her binds
That has a strong sense of justice
Elixir for her great powers
To help the people around.

Yes, I am that writer
That once wanted to become
An infinity of possibilities
Yet her calling is this.

From immature beliefs
That now have become
Written words as it seems.
Like that butterfly
That has just come out of her cocoon
Barely opening her wings
Engaging into this wonderful world.

I morph into my protagonist
Although I suffer her losses
I also enjoy her road of achievements.
However, I’m also a villain
That’s a Machiavellian
And enjoys her sadistic approach
Killing all that comes in her way.

Yes, I finally put it into words
A storyteller in the making
I’m a writer
That morphs
Into this world of possibilities.