The Turning of the Road: Sammath Naur

- jan-u-wine

Somewhere
along the dark

ribbon

of this
Road,
I
lost myself.

Somewhere,
there
was a turning,

there
was a step
upon
which,
somehow,
I stumbled.

No longer
in dreams
do I
see Home,
nor
hear the
Sea's beloved
cry.

No longer,
even,
does
your voice
call  me
back
from dark
wanderings.

 

You cannot touch
me.

I cannot
be hurt
by the smallness
which is you.

I  turn
away
from the sound
of your grief.

You do not
move me.

I do not love you,
nor those

others,

anymore.


I will prove
it:

I will give
your life
to That
which
I
do love.

A cold
and terrible

will

holds me still.

Like one wounded,
you lie
upon the ground
at my feet.

The slow
beat

of your heart
pulls at  your throat,

tears

slide thickly
beneath eyes
closed by despair.

Your voice.

I hear
your voice.

You speak
my name
as one
who
expects
to die.


[Do you imagine
you
can summon
him forth,
Samwise,

this .....

friend

whom
your trembling
voice seeks?]

[say his name
oft enough -

the scattered

fragments

of all
he was
may yet
somewhere
survive.]

[Haply,
after
you
lie dead,
I shall
let him
see
your blood
bathing
the bright
face
of his
dishonored
blade]

[Haply,
he will even
close
your unseeing
eyes]


Fire.

Flame

&

pitiable
screams

pound

upon the closed
doors
of my mind.

Blood.

Bright blood

joins
with the
fierce
red of the flames.

Mine.

It
is
mine.

Echoes
fade
into darkness -

darkness
falls
to
light.

Mine.......

Mine.

Only the blood
is
mine.

In sorrowful
shame
I see
your face.

Your hand
grasps
mine still,

holding
me
safe against
the only horror which remains:

myself.

What have I done?

This chamber
of dark
and terrible
ancestry
smells
of death.

Death.

It is a small thing.

Not much bigger
than I.

He
has met his...

His story,
mercifully,
happily over.

It is such a little
thing
that now,
I should meet mine.

Yet,
somehow,
you desire
to look
once
upon
the  sun-lit ruin
of the World
outside.

 

No matter.

In the space
of
a few
heartbeats,
this other
Dark
will take us.

Upon
the friendly
shoulder
of the Mountain,
we lie.

I wonder,
as my hand
seeks yours,
as my eyes close
against
the sight
they must not see,
does Home

shimmer

in your mind?

who calls to you?

whose heart does yours

seek,

as your Life
ends
in this lonely place?

If not for me,
you would yet
have had
one fair
summer more.

What have I done?

My guilty eyes
open
into yours
and
see
no retribution there....

only

soft sadness,
peace,
patient
forgiveness.

If only
I had
tears
left.

I take your
offered
hand
in mine.

Here,
we end
as we
began.

I am glad
I am,
at the last,
with you,
Sam.