~ It’s an odd feeling wanting to be understood in an intimate way but at the same time wanting the freedom of being a mystery. Thus, here you have my words, but not my face.

Broken Priestess

Oceans rise, empires fall

But I didn’t think our land would go this way

I remembered the day I was appointed priestess

I knew the best course of action was to learn to love you

You who completed the quest

You who our people wanted as king

You with the quality guarantee

I thought if I loved you our marriage would be long lasting

I stood before the gods

But you wandered away

Our god all wisdom, our kindly mother called for you

You abandoned her

You love more pleasure

I tried to love you more

Our covenant with the gods broke

You brought this girl into our bed

The place where we wed, now a ghostly cathedral overgrown with grass

I look to my people

They are fearful and ready for battle

My people will perish

Violence is on our shore

You blame me

“She has failed in her duties to the gods!”

I wasn’t enough, to you nothing was ever enough

“It’s certainly not my fault for all of this!” (He says in parentheses)

I pleaded but divine will is absolute

You go to battle, but I feel nothing looking at you

I sit amongst our gods and wait for the end

This is a narrative poem written in a creative writing exercise where we’d take random text from various objects around us and write using the words and phrases. Some of the objects involved in this poem are a Hamilton piano book and a Crayola color pencil box. I’ve been contemplating making it a short story or novella. What do you guys think?