Nostalgic for Mythology

Nostalgic for Mythology

You illuminate this room
With the scrape of a match
And this is your attempt to subjugate Darkness.
Despite feeble efforts
It cannot be effaced
For where there is light, there are shadows.
With candles we probe
Into Its depths
And naively we fabricate mystery.
Hence we feel fear
As we lift our candle
For, as humans, we despise the unknown.
Anxious, deeper with this flame
You burn sheets of Night
Manifesting the quiet dread beyond Hatred.

On a moon fast approaching
The conflagration of stars
Will be mirrored by an inferno of wax and wick,
As candle upon candle
Is to be wasted
In setting afire the spawn of imagination.
In these turbid times
The nocturnal shall rise
For others intimate no acceptance.

In search of answers?
You must be mistaken.
Answers bear diploid the questions
And hence the myrmidons
Seek Light in faith
For them, the past is panacea, remedy to all,
Yet we face the future.
And then, just maybe,
This childhood game is the more lucid
I shall not lead you
Off cliff or beach
If you play along, and follow through faction.

With all the enigmas of life
It is but a wonder
That more are not scared from indurate shells;
En masse, not nebbish
Nor ineffectual
But requiring the spurs of the individualist group
The world’s cry is plangent
And drowns the perfervid,
As passion becomes second to technology.

In a world of Darkness
Where few shed light
The nocturnal shall rise.

-Janna Eaves 11/26/07