He Who Fights Monsters

I won’t survive this dark night’s lunar sea.
Waves crash against the fortress of my mind.
An endless ebb and flow of misery
Has seeped into the Labyrinth we designed.

No atlas, compass, sextant can give aid
In evil vaults where stars are loath to shine.
My tears and screams, once birthed, so quickly fade—
To drown with hope beyond the high-tide line.

I’ve raced before a tempest wind so long,
My hull is breached beyond my skill to caulk.
No dawn for me, I chase a siren’s song
To straits so dire, all but monsters balk.

On feathered wings of wax at last I see—
There’s no abyss except the one in me.

Ryan Stone

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10 thoughts on “He Who Fights Monsters

  1. Fascinating one. The greatest hell inside him, an inescapable one full of despair and loathing. No way out he’s trapped and cannot even fly as Icarus could, perhaps, he’s perpetually falling back into this horrible abyss in him — as Icarus fell when his wax wings melted too close to the sun. Like if he tries to escape, it’s useless, the closer he gets, the farther into despair he falls. Inside himself, hopeless.

    Liked by 1 person

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