Life in ruins, destroyed
countless birthdays before
by greed and a glitter
on a river's floor.
Life of shadow, buried
beneath mountain stone
cradling a treasure.
From murder, madness grows.
But this induced joy is fleeting,
fire leaps from a spark,
a whole world up-ended
by riddles in the dark.
There's a beauty in falling
which only the fallen know.
A moment of suspense, hesitation,
as your wings don't quite catch the air
before suddenly you are Icarus, immortal,
a plume of feathers on the waves.
There's a beauty in drowning
which only the drowned know.
A moment of breathlessness, emptiness,
as your lungs refuse the water
before suddenly you are Phlebas, immortal,
bones on the sea bed.
There's a beauty in hanging
which only the hanged know.
A moment of constriction, levitation,
as all the weight is lifted from your shoulders
before suddenly you are Antigone, immortal,
a body suspended in a cave.
There's a beauty in