The clank of iron.
These heavy links
Are Saturn's signature.
He is Aerth, all right,
The Aerth of Demeter's winter wanderings
Frozen tight & silent
Under the bare & blackened trees.
Hades holds my daughter hostage,
My sweet Persephone
I will wander this bleak blankness,
A curse I gave in my heartbroken rage,
Until she returns home.
***
The candle burns bright & blue
A beacon. A hand. A heartbeat.
The Dragon rises from the South,
Flames on his tongue
A torch.
He cradles me with light
As I face North
The Winter's home.
He is such a dark god, old Cronos.
Severe. Immovable. Iron.
Even the Dragon's breath barely softens his crystalline
hands.
Old man, Father Time,
You hold my flowered daughter prisoner
As surely as your brother Hades.
I have had enough of your weary ways,
Enough of your slow quicksand.
Old Cronos
Your frail frame cracks like ice
Old Cronos
Your bones bleed brittleness
Old Saturn
Time must even catch up with you
Old Saturn
My dragon's breath illuminates your shadows
Old man
Ouranous now holds the sickle knife
Old man
I conjured him back
And once again
He will win.