I can hear the world beating in my temples.
Breathing in the chemicals, changing out the oxygen in my lungs for the fumes of war.
When can we start welcoming in the years of the undressed and unmasked?
The tides are turning and churning in my guts as if I am the ocean, and the words are the moon.
Welcome to the new age of the horned and gilded.
Creatures, ready the night owls revenge.
I ready my naked bodies with the armors and colors for our revenge.
Hundreds of dirty and bare feet storming the stairs of the hallowed halls of the temples.
Those few covered in false riches, made in the image of the gilded.
The air sparks alive as the drums start to play the cries of my war.
Playing the songs of my internal struggles, shrouded in the light of the moon.
That mask that I carry as a badge of false courage falls, unmasked.
My word is the sheep to the wolf, I must re-mask the unmasked.
Sharp teeth gnashing out, raging at the sound of the beckoning harvest moon.
The sight of those shimmering horns make eyes bleed for revenge.
My feet are black from the soil, but red and gold from the floors of the occupied temples.
Bring on the swift cries of earth as we tread back to the repugnant war.
Breathing becomes harder, glitters in the air, the smell of moist earth and tongues gilded.
Waves of precious metals fill the air, the members of my armies feet growing more gilded.
We are few in numbers, but we will wear our tribal animal masks proud til we are unmasked.
Fatigue and famine, but we will battle to stay free through any battles and any war!
All that glitters is not gold, but all that is bashed must get its revenge.
There is a stir in the temples.
Waves crash in my head, words bashing against the shore in the lights of the growing moon.
The stairs are occupied, horns pointing straight to the moon.
"How do I stop, when I can't even forget?" the one with the horns says, moonlight gilded.
I open my mouth to speak, feeling the pressure in my temples.
When does this pressure stop, after revenge?
I strike my battle stance, my mask is tight against my face; I will not be unmasked!
This is over, no more of this atrocious war.
My heart is free again, never again will I battle for my own personal war.
The colors of our war paint wash off in the forgiving rays of the moon.
I have no more need for revenge.
Golden water runs from the floors as the rays wash away the gilded
The mask falls from my hand and in front of god and everyone, I am for the last time unmasked
The beating of the worlds is no longer in my temples.
What is the purpose of fighting for who you are, what is the war?
We should all be uniquely gilded.
Eyes as blue as the ocean, hair the color of the forests floor, and skin paler than the moon.
Take of your mask, you are even more beautiful unmasked.
Masks are only for those who are only trying to get even or get revenge.
You are better than the world ringing in your temples.
- Title: Gilded.
- Artist: Kniix
This is my first attempt at a Sestina, the scheme is: ABCDEF-FAEBDC-CDFABE-ECBFAD-DEAFCB-BDFECA-BE-DC-FA
- Date: 02/15/2013
- Tags: gilded