freedom – Page 168 – elancharan gunasekaran

scales fall like dead suns embertongue the father of fire molts high above the winterlands

even the fires that burned the flesh from bone burnt in the name of the mad monarch

chaos was no ally no pawn but a wound in a time of frail men

in tongues no sage or beast could name sigils untamed devoured by the dirt

library walls bleed dust and secrets a staircase turns into a serpent and beyond the jaws of book covers are worlds filled with danger and magic

hair braided in embers the fire will only speak to her she burns and churns until the sun rises from her navel

the stone eaters rise with mouths full of granite and abyssal hymns

back to the heart of the forest grim where you become a seed where you become a blasphemous scream

blighted roots write eulogies for the autumn sun

the gods have gone silent as winter devours the last of barren trees