Torchbearer
A Poem by R.J Calzonetti
"I wish I was well, because this poem would be much better then. For a friend"
I look at you like I'm looking in a mirror
Like you were me in a different life, like I've been there
I see the timid happiness you sometimes exude
Like I used to before I grew out of smiles
Now when I smile it feels like a fresh wound on face
Exposing the bone underneath, numbed flesh painted in pain
You are as new as a flower heated by the morning sun, the dew on the ground
While the whole world shivers
I lost my vision somewhere along this blind crusade against humanity
But I've seen better days before the blizzard slithered into the vineyard of my hell
Evil and good are a coin flip, and I don't have any change to spare
Maybe it's not too late for you
Maybe you can push through this pain
Sour is that disorganized hope for something you can't have is an obstacle course
But I'm going to beat my next challenge, climb the last mountain, my body's hollow alcove
Messy expeditions trying to climb this cliffside, the riptide
I lost my footing and fell from the bird's nest
I have no wings, just feet to hold up my pride,
But your light as a feather
You don't have to be a cog in the machine, a war engine of hate, or anger
To flutter on the wind like a sail lent ripped from the sky, I plummeted
It's so much easier for a crow to stick by the battlefield picking at scabs that are never going to heal
You could change things that are too late for me to say
To do, to live, you can be the best you can be still
You don't have to feel forgotten, you're not yet haunted
Fight, fight like every sword is paper, like every bullet is lead on the page
Let your being fly in the summer sky, the summit's isle, violet survivalist
Let the sun warm your heart, let the beat circulate like every poem is blood in your new veins
Restrain yourself, give your all, but never give it all away
The trees that deem symmetry with their fallen leaves weaving the ceiling into stars
The soul glints like iron hammered into cold hearts of steel
A fire is every life, burning to a crisp, turning to ash, just hot air
Let the kindling of flames be warm, rather than scalding in their indulgence
Let them light your way past the moon
Like the art flows universal maelstroms of meteoric euphoria from the endorphins Chlorophyll
The photosynthesis of ricocheting indifference to all the hate these people have
Because that is all we have sometimes
And when we take our first step, someone walked their last mile
The eclipse of life means we overshadow the last living soul with our own sparks
So stay wild child, compile the silos of violins of dynamic insanity, craft your Cleopatra
We only truly know a firework's beauty when it disappears in the rear-view mirror
Realize that the dead are torchbearers
That they cinder to shed light on our husk of a world
That that beautiful spirit evaporating on the condensation of aether matriarchs
I'm going to be the one to light up the stage like a spotlight's sun flaring arrogantly
Because we only have so much time to enjoy the show before it's over, before an encore
I plan to spend it blending nebula's bending pendulums clementine's of disassembled velvet
I think you can only paint the world in colour of Fall by running through these walls
When you stumble but continue, ever crack in the brick is just another window
Taller than symbols riddled in the equilibrium of imbalanced Valkyries
The alchemic assembly of choices are yours to make
The torchbearers carry the weight of the world, and set a fire in your soul, incorporeal
So when you feel pain, wear it like a sky blanketed in torchbearers gleaming like the moon
Enlightening the dark truths of this world, reflecting dyslexic
You have the right to bear your burden, you've earned your own eternity
Your heated soul purging metallurgy, melt their steel hearts