Broken Wing

My back presses the stained wall
begging the blood to stop its silky flow.
I stroke the loosened feathers in the Broken Wing
Attempting to understand why they won’t stay in.
My head tilts back, gulping the tears
foaming over the cracked wall’s dust.
The corner’s warmth holds me like mother’s touch
Cold, despite his still-warm blood
dripping down my face

A few more feathers break free
landing heavily beside my glass-filled feet
left to the mercy of my recent Emperor’s cup.
The Broken Wing carves into our mixed blood
still unfolding in my lap’s curves

Blood finally clots in my nose
Bruised by his massive hand,
‘Why isn’t he breathing,’
I question as my tilted head lowers
From the dripping crimson ceiling
Into the shadowed lilies of The emperor’s dinner-wear

The artery’s snap dampens in my conscience,
with the fear of living slipping from my heart
as the red moon scathes my blacken eyes.
Stripped from the vapors of care
My breath weakens in the winter air
gently cooling the sweat across my chest

The numbing chill of blood on my face
Fades with my faith,
and purpose slips from the hull
where innocence once resided
in that small frail serving boy
Remembering how the blades passed
through his parent's throats

Horns buffet the hollow night sky
the guard's armor chatters near
My lazy gaze distills like the tepid pond water
with my hand stroking the stains on My Broken Wing

They intrude my ponders
cursing and demeaning everything I am
As their enraged eyes pass over the carcass
Silver whips the dust thick air
Clink!
Fiery vengeance fills my eyes
The armored dog gulps,
when my Broken Wing rises
parrying his Katana’s blade
and parting with another handful of feathers
His astonished face lingers as my legs straighten,
forcing more feathers to tumble down my tattered clothes
He questions as the emperor did "why,"
just as I parted his throat with
the full strength of determination
for my sole reply

The sword’s shaft clicks
in a thumb’s flick

A silent prayer folds into the child’s sneering smile
Draping fear in rolling waves like the sweat enveloping the guard’s face
Broken Wing rips from its casing
as the thirsting blade spreads from the fallen innocence
into their shock-enthralled skins.