The Maverick Variations ⟫ Poem ⟫  The Hour Of Descent

The Hour Of Descent

by


A Prophecy Of Bones

An evocative poem of prophetic bones and passions, where a provisional woman's voice rises like magma, gnawing the Underworld itself. A maze of untold myth.

The Hour Of Descent

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Muting her passage with a portent of ash,
they sing a prophecy of bones, a dessication,
their passions trembling in dumb unison:
though seized by an extinction,
her voice yet flees the amber, like a moon
escapes a dwarf sun's darkness.
Another light. Another orbit.
A voice that rises like magma
eating through the deep black marl. A voice
to gnaw the Underworld itself
into a malformed maze of myth untold; a Styx diverted;
a history cleaved; a slain Pantheon.
She is the light of imagination.
Provisional woman, aberration,
she combs a ruddy shore
seeking the conference of giants,
her voice a risen Lazurus
singing of herself.

Jé Maverick

Category: Poem  Tags: Jé MaverickUnderworld
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