According To Mnemosyne [POEM]

Death

XIII

╭          Bit of a Warning          ╮

Heavy Themes

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According To

Mnemosyne

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#PoemsByKyrie

── =^._.^= ∫ ──

According to Mnemosyne,

I am better off unchained,

free from my memories' burden

that would only haunt my life,

I praised her so, then walked away,

my mind was silent for once,

but in silence did I felt that

I was oh-so-incomplete,

As incomplete as I'm empty,

even my voice was silenced

into submission, thus bereft

of what gives me company,

And yet, even with this silence,

I could hear the soft whispers,

of someone afraid I'll leave them,

that I'll forget about them,

This restless and sonorous voice

muttered endless cries and pleas,

begging me to never leave them

as they wailed in agony,

But I just cannot stay with them

lest they see my sin-stained hands,

from blood and feathers of angels,

of their wings that I had plucked,

This silence is consuming me

with its loud and deafening

voice that I do not think is mine,

desperately calling me,

But I drifted away from it

akin to a wanderer,

or even that of a hermit

still searching for his purpose,

And yet, the voice still lingers on,

the silent loudness that had

followed me everywhere I went,

but, is it a friend or foe?

According to Mnemosyne,

this voice is of the Devil's

whom I shouldn't interact with

despite nostalgia it brings,

I yearn for this forbidden voice

that which fills my empty head,

yet I know that it's forbidden,

something that I shouldn't touch,

According to Mnemosyne,

I should let go of this voice

since it holds me back from rebirth,

of letting me start anew,

But forgetting is like killing;

a crime that ends someone's life,

for life goes beyond one's ing,

that is, if they're ed,

And this fragility of life

is what beckons me to come,

to go and reach out for the voice

that happens to know my name,

Ah, I do not not know anymore,

should I listen to my heart

or the warnings of the goddess?

It's all mes my head!

But then came out the little ones,

the clamorous little ones,

“Hush, little one… hush, little boy,

listen to no god or heart,

“You've fear of metamorphosis,

of the changing times by fate,

and yet you've fear of stagnation,

to remain as who you are,”

Ah, is this the answer I sought?

I don't think so... well, at least

according to the prophecy

foretold by Mnemosyne…

── =^._.^= ∫ ──

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