Sins of the Father
By: Zimona Posted on: December 18, 2015
The lines were drawn before we were born,
the moment Infernal eyes found her in the indigo hawthorne.
For a while they thought the curse
had broken. That his blood would disperse
and the vileness of his deeds
would bleed
away.
Blood ties bind in strange ways;
they twist, turn, and burn
until sometimes one can only yearn
to find the other part of themselves.
When I left, you begged me not to leave.
But you were too naive,
swallowing whole their Righteous tenets
while I was forced into penance.
All these years later, the hate
in your eyes scores me. It's too late
this is the way it has to be.
I have found how to be me.
Working for Creation.
Weakness you confess,
Strength I profess.
Witnessing you across the battle field
bearing the indigo pennant, zealous
and I am so very jealous
at how easily they accept you.
Delos is so quiet, it has not yet been corrupted;
the gurgle of the Zaphar River only disrupted
by the breeze which gusts over the bridge.
The thud of weapons on barbed shields,
the clang of Mogheduian steel rings over the field.
The tension is almost perceptible,
a jittery feeling which makes me susceptible
to the bloodlust thickening the air.
Can I do it? Will you do it?
Will death engulf us here?
Suddenly the flag appears, a snap and crack in the air,
a spindly white-capped fanfare.
The roar of the charging forces is deafening.
And I am thankful for the ear deadening
battle yells. I am lost in the twirl of my elemental staff,
the dance of battle, them versus us in a choreograph
of Good and Light opposite Evil.
The sins of the father inspired this,
bringing us to this perilous
point. As the bodies part I am awed
by the skill with which you maraud.
I can not attack you, not my flesh and blood,
my other half. Realizing with a flood
of emotions you had always been there.
My twin. Born of the same womb
but both of us costumed
as something we were not meant to be.
Enemies.
Your attack is so sudden. A flash of light
is all I see before you rain down your might.
The curved point of the scimitar's blade digs in.
So much blood, this is a sin.
I am startled at the bite of pain.
The fire which stretches from my side,
burning upwards until it collides
with my heart.
Your eyes are clear as they stare
towards my reaching hand. I still care.
"Sister, what have they done to us?"
"Brother, I'm sorry I must."
As the light fades and Thoth beckons
from his bone throne. I reckon
it will always be you against me.
A competition born from a twisted family tree.