Organum 2

all this joint misery
was for my own sake

do you expect me then to leap to my feet,
race towards it?
I am as one who reaches for a crown
won by blood
tainted triumph, bitter on these lips,
does not taste of victory

and you say it is enough
for me to have needed this
our combined suffering, a heavy price
for self-realization

don’t you know I am as lost as before
trying to reassemble these ruins
in a way that makes sense

so misery births art,
out of the ashes of myself, creations emerge

this coliseum crumbling under
hungry tourist eyes, they marvel
at these relics without
pausing to recognize the ghosts in the air,
the marble tombstone of an entire age,
that these traces of greatness
are only evidence of their own demise

true, they are broken and beautiful
these little shreds of myself

but would it not have been better
to remain intact?

– E

Organum 1


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