Sol Invictus

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Cold is the pain, cold is the frame, solid is the sill

which seals my fate with a frozen lock on my will.

Bitter is the coffee sipped slowly in the slow

solitary minutes of plight.

Then rise, rise and break the night.

Come the dawn, come the light.

Come Sol Invictus.

 

Round my throat like a hungry hangman’s noose

but vacant drape the twisted sheets cold and loose

in the pit of my dark cell staring with hollow eyes

at the dark sky speckled bright.

So rise, rise and break the night.

Come the dawn, come the light.

Come Sol Invictus.

 

Bleed darkness your ice-wrapped fingers claw,

cutting deep my livid soul of wantonness for your

frigid lust. But let me wander under velvet skies

of diamonds and dust and blight.

Then rise, rise and break the night.

Come the dawn, come the light,

Come Sol Invictus.

 

Insomnious winter screams my seething solitude.

I feel my emptiness like a long-lost limb removed

in the cold chamber of conflict hot saws go

through my skin and bone of white.

So rise, rise and break the night.

Come the dawn, come the light.

Come Sol Invictus.

 

Rochester, 2016

 

Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15 or

at https://www.facebook.com/Malek-Montag-Author;

 

Image from: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/z58mZToQhRY/maxresdefault.jpg

About malekmontag

I am a writer and a wage-slave, and proud father of George Giraffe. I live in the UK, but I exist everywhere. My first stories were published this year (2016) in Short Stories and Tall Tales (Atla Publishing). Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15. My Work is also available on Niume.com.
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