I have weathered wolves and deities, fought horrors dreamt and real,
kept my word and my identity, though the system bade me fail.
I have championed my brother, taken succor with the weal,
sourced my secret tides for good and ill, borne my pain beyond the pale. Continue reading And Weariness Is My Name by Ron Sanders→
We were victors, we were gods, we were keepers of the crown: we had plucked the fire’s eye, we had worn the monster down. We had pierced creation’s heart, we had brought its pulse to heel; we had cracked the atom’s code, we were masters of the Wheel.
Yet we withered at inflections, we wallowed in our psalms; we watched our brute reflections as we wiped our sweaty palms. So stranger prayed for stranger, and father wept for son. Then came that awful moment when the sirens wailed as one