
"it appears that you are both the messenger and the message."
- legate lanius
By Periwinkle Cajiuat
history belongs to victors.
i am not a victor, yet
these histories are mine -
heart full of days past, beating
unnatural against my ribcage,
heavy and red, war drums screaming.
how can something so long dead
weep so much crimson?
newly ancient nations
claw their way through the desert.
they bleed, careless, out on the sand.
is that your dusty boot on their neck?
courier, you walk,
not knowing the weight of your steps.
harbinger, you create only
to destroy.
you want your answers.
come -
hear the banging in my chest.
heed the rumble
of sleeping silver giants underfoot,
red-tipped, ready at my command.
come to me;
listen to the past i bear,
the futures i behold.
come to me,
and do what you must.
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