Melas Oneiros

by MELISSA COOK

They tore my wings like zephyr
-and I; I sat upon that one
abstract oleander..

Disorientated

between the cold air
and a stale dream catcher;

whos webs antique
toward my thoughts of savior.

With each petal
to deteriorate ‘neath me
I wrote of unstoppable fires.
Never to move from
a single thorn

-only to feel somber-

and I held that stem for;
eighteen years
until dipped into an abyss

painting violent butterflies
-from memory-

worried they would re-appear

like the many nights
I curled ‘neath raindrops
frozen as stone;
detaching myself from
a trust I never knew.

and he, he thrashed
as if violent weather…

Slipping through cracks

to find myself spun
-unable to reach you-

*Melas oneiros also known as Epiales was the Greek spirit of nightmares. The term “Melas Oneiros” translates to “black dream”

merdivinity

Recent Content

Deprivation

Deprivation by MYRYN VILLAFLOR [they slither, and they hisslike talking serpents , as they passthrough those discarded streets]his head’s a sanctuary of sounds,where he would hear his father sing him to sleep[they drift, and they hoverlike cigarette smoke wouldinside that shady space]his heart’s an ocean, and women are like waves; reflecting, and refracting along the shoreline of his […]

Lady Annabelle

Lady Annabelle by TOKONI O. UTI She has a will, she has a choice. Now too loud to hear the noise. All those who never wanted to be. And all the voices that we see. Today she drowns in her regrets. Tomorrow she is silent but will not forget. There is nothing else to give. […]