Another one down;
Another one to surmount the guilt.
In this field of giants, what am I but a speck?
I am a plague, a darkness upon this forbidden land,
Rife with abominations,
But when the corpses mount the pile,
I am a titan among insects.
Hear me! father of the land:
I never wished for this fate.
With each transgression committed
I see myself more and more a beast,
An occupant of the greatest evil;
But if you come for me, beware:
I am the slayer of monoliths.
Is this a boast?
With each stab I feel my heart flutter,
Panged as though I were piercing myself.
These ululations of lament transmute,
Become tirades of anger and self-deprecation,
And though salvation may be won in the end,
Forgiveness is far beyond me.
In this silent prison—
This empty haven—
The beauty brings me to my knees,
Prayerful before the cursed altars,
Trembling for fear of the unknown:
The next monumental conflict—
An epic struggle.
There is no one to share the pain,
No one to comprehend the strife within;
Just my soul and a spurned god
And a cadaver awaiting resurrection.
Alone I embark, alone I succeed,
Alone I witness the horrors wrought by my hand
And the tragedies left in their wake.
But of all the atrocities enacted,
Yours, my fathers, were the worst.
And so to cast blame,
Only gaze into these hallowed pools
And witness the ripples of reflection.
For as much as I abhor what I’ve done,
I would herald the death of a thousand guardians
To undo the blessing bestowed for your sacrifice,
And see this dead beauty walk again.