Proud Shadows

Cemetery sighs hover under night -
amidst the pale stars which shatter Heaven,
cold distant ghosts ride the delicious light;
an eclipse above tart wails that deafen.
I remain silent and still as the wind
blows creation's cremation in my mind -
a lonely spectre which slides desire
across religious chants in visions' fire,
consecrated imagery steals this breath
while I bathe within the glory of death.

Hallowed ground hacks at white fear's skeletons -
here in this grave opportunity's call
I set free my voice to join dark legions
and wait for the battered Angels to fall.
Nature mourns choice; decided on a whim
while shrouds of anxiety flap hard sin;
vicious wings of freedom now chained to trust,
to continue on this journey, I must
gather the spirit's dreaded proud shadows -
roam the soil of my life lying fallow.