It started with black wings
It ended with black eyes
And it lost you somewhere
Along that path
That rested in the sunlight
And dove into the shadows
You thought you wouldn’t lose yourself
Tied yourself to that string of faith
You were off to face the Minotaur
Theseus that you were
Writing your own Odyssey
You lost your innocence
By that mistake in ignorance
You weren’t meant to be saved
Because your lies were already written
And your sins already sinned
In that second you were born
That wailing in the wind
Lovely baby
Sweet child
Can you catch the tears of your mother?
Can you catch the blows of your father?
Why must sister cry?
Why must the gods play
With spindle fingers
With that thread of trust
That you tied around yourself.
Why did you trip?
Why did you spill?
Erasing yourself in completion of your epic
Did you find love?
Did you find answers?
Did the shadows lead you to light?
Or did the light lead you in circles
To shadows
Why did you trip?
Why were you lost?
Why did those spindle fingers not bleed
When they tore your immortal thread
And the Fates, the blasphemy
They abandoned their child
To trip and to spill
To lose himself along that path of shadows
And that thread of faith
It was twined with corruption
Poor child
Lovely child
Sweet child.
You had sinned in innocence
Lied in ignorance.
Theseus of mine
You lost yourself to the Minotaur
From black wings
To black eyes.