Flare (untrue sun)

Movement unbalanced,
ever in the same piece,
to and fro,
there
and back again;
the spring too high strung,

forcing me back in time
to where I could live
no longer, wanted to be
never again

and yet by my own hand always
the spring is wound too tight,
taking all my time.

But when I let you in, let you
leave the demon’s circle,
(I never cursed you),
the ghostly times are lifted

(still,
that flash fire, raging
uncontrolled unto
your lands – flare (untrue sun)
annihilating my planet).

Will we forever remain goslings
in the stream, driven
to where the river deems to float?
Or will we grow up and swim off?

I hear your whisper, even see your shimmer,
though you are no more of this world
and,

as if in prayer, the spring regains balance
                                    in unwinding till at last

all boundaries are broken −
I choose to open the circle,

each in our own world,
existing back to back,
in your stead, I will stay in my time.

Quench me
that core fire in your world.