Arcing Ark Archangel

Arcing Ark Archangel

Legends were told of your sort
Who roamed the land long ago.
Angels which rose above mountains,
Scorching everyone with awe.

When the demons came into
This world, you were one
Who was called upon
To serve and garrison the ark.

Legends say that they swarmed.
One angel fell for every ten demons.
The struggle at last ended
When the heavenly claimed victory.

They told stories of that day.
Wrote novels in dark inks.
In frames and canvases
And holidays we celebrated.

I hesitate
To complicate
A clear-cut
Situation.

Other-dimensional beings
Found resurgence in weakness.
Once again they clung as shadows,
And found power in the people.

My shoulders aren’t as strong
As they used to be.
The air is again a venom.
I must become stable once more.

Picked up right where we left off.
The familiarity is evident
Even through I’ve only heard
The stories from a time before.

A phantom pain
Began to dissipate
As I saw feathers
Coasting by.

My seeker’s garb shedding
With every step
Down the long
And snaking road.

You are sweet; a veteran of conflict.
A humble survivor.
You practice aggression
In the name of tomorrow.

You have a comfort around you
Which extends like wings
From your back.
I can only float and watch you fly.

You have an eye of attrition
Which grinds my resolve into dust.
Such lovely dust which cascades
From the air beneath your wings.

You scabbard a sword of induction
That pulses with transistors.
Its semiconductors shimmering
In bright, aurelian lattices.

With that aegis you had slain
Many enemies to this plane.
Yet it has two edges:
One of thorns, one that is rosy;

Each hilt branded in the serial
By monks that witnessed the battles,
Who commissioned these blades
For use by the ark angels.

A guard acts as venom’s bane
As the arc of sword swings
Curves into beasts
And into devil’s shields.

It murmurs and hums with electricity.
Cloudfire contained and now
Wielded by you.
The only one of your type.

You use that sealed blade to protect
And direct currents to my hourglass.
Grounding a crystal defibrillator
To snap and shock a ravenous chest.

Listening
Listening
Listening for a beat
Beneath the sparks.

Then dust beneath your grey wings
Beat.
They revived.
They came alive.

Molecules split.
Elements combined.
Forged by bright light,
My charged skin took flight.

In the center of the maelstrom
Compelling shards collided.
When the vortex at last ceased,
You saw my lovesome eyes.

I knew you from the old myths.
You’ve saved kingdoms.
People from my region
Shout shanties of your praise.

A sigil is engraved upon your armor.
Cast of refractive silver,
The mere symbol of your power
Is well recognized by all.

It appeared as a stellar’s jay
Appears in the cold air.
Jolt-colored and black ink-breasted
Below the gusts of icy mist.

A soul of gold under the silver
Armor and ruby robes, glazed with
Teachings in colored inks
For use in telling true stories.

You took all doubt and cast it away.
With glowing authority, you
Took me and told me that
This thought will not decay.

You floated, triple-robed.
Fluttering, were layers of silver,
Bleached and reddened cloaks
With insignias on glittering armor.

You carried the electric sword
And bandoliered ink bottles for words.
On your blade was inscribed
The marks of your brave deeds.

It pinned me to the ground.
It anchored my thoughts.
When I thought I would float away,
Ink put me in suspended invigorance.

A presence expunged doubt.
A mark and sigil stole
The air from my chest
Over and over again.

I, the dust, could see you now
As your span stretched out.
Shining above the others
And rising with the wind.

Your words make my guise.
Your scent is my aura.
The way home is tall
And this free fall is long.

Snow whips as wind drifts up
Rock cliffs beside the passage,
Marking places where others
Collapsed long ago.

Thunder rages and lighting strikes,
Chaining between all of me,
Looking from a mountain peak
As you elevate above the worthy.

The rough road runs out,
And my regalia has been torn
To scraps by the journey
I’ve adventured upon to be here.

An umbrella I’ve had since the start
Is the only thing left intact,
Apart from gilded luck
Yet to ever become useful.

Even though I’ll never escalate,
I can always watch from
The summit as you ascend
And venom cleanse.

Attachments abound,
Particles combining,
Sealing scorching feelings
In its popping sounds.

Caught and released,
Suspended and set forth,
Thinking of a future me
At the snowy mountain peak.

The road home I coast on
Is provided by safe currents.
This mist is so smothering.
I could drown in the ink.

Even through character lapses
And the missed connections,
I can see the two red lights
Above the snow caps.

You look impeccably gorgeous
When I can catch glimpses
Through the blinding gales
Of my dust

In the
Wind
Beneath
Your wings.

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