Terra, Part 2

Part 2 of a long-form poem.

Other instalments:

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

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Terra IV

A trace.
'E 'n la sua volontade è nostra pace.'

The forest gives way to a blasted heath.
(Dreams, as you know, are sent by Zeus.)

'And in his will, our peace.'
But kings have thrown off subordinate reign.

Shake off cares and business!
Unburdened, crawl toward death!
(Express your darker purpose.)

Their wills favoured the usurpers,
Thus the heirs spit fire with fools.

I fly across the channel,
Float across the ocean,
Where an island hosts burnng ferries.
Lampedusa. Camp of the Saints.

Banishment is here; freedom hence,
In the fallen kingdom of the sisters.

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Terra V

I wake again to a dream of the forest.
A layer of plastic waste
Rises to the forest floor,
Woven into masks for children.
This is the decree.

Let the muse sing again of rage,
Of oceans of masks, 
Of weird, trafficked vials,
Of forests of littered needles,

Homes of trash and spoil.
Proteins of an aborted life,
Surging downriver,
Films of soapy filth.

Across the river, Dante speaks...
'My, our, comedy passes through hell.'
The river is set alight.
'Fire walk with me.'

Swirling coals lead us on.

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Terra VI

I see coals falling from the sky.
The forest is wood for an altar,
Smoke blinding each eye.
Incensed, blooded smoke of holy fire.

Dank, dark leaves shine like gold.
The smoke clears, reveals, again enfolds.
A bright tunnel opens before us,
Sparks show us a descent.

The searing coals burn us lightly
As slowly we climb into a city.

The city enshadows a lonely beach,
Empty beach, save for crabs,
Rattling, bitter stars, shuffling litter.

Nobody is there.
The order goes out.

Die alone, or
Die with us.

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Other instalments:

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4