The Voice of Desperate Hearts

By: Bailey Tulloch

Among the freezing breeze of swastikas,

The only awakened robot

Was the word of the innocent.

II

She was of three hearts,

Like a sphinx,

Child, escapist, and thief.

III

The small girl whirled in the whip of tongues

And let the words flow, falling, and flailing.

IV

A fervent Soliloquist and a Jew,

United.

A Soliloquist and a Jew and a Thief,

United.

V

She knew now which to prefer,

The beauty of the alleged,

Or the beauty of destruction;

The Whistler whistling

From the silence after.

VI

Death consumes the long cold walls.

With a barbaric laugh,

The shadow of the Soliloquist

Crossed it, to and fro.

The laugh

Echoed in the shadow,

Beating on the drumming of a thieving heart.

VII

Oh, voice of desperate hearts,

Why do you imagine a golden blue world?

Do you not see how the darkness

Wobbles, defies the tears

That you have so promptly set before it?

VIII

There are no noble accents,

Only poundings of agonized cries.

You know, I know, she knew,

That the stars swallowed in the darkness

Weren’t shining as meant to.

IX

When the night flew out of sight,

Death scraped the edge

Of one of many chains.

X

At the sight of a finally risen star,

Swimming in the pink of beginning,

Even the eyes of a spoken word

Would cry out sharply.

XI

Death soared out of their sanctuary

And into another,

Once a scream pierced him.

In that he cried out,

The shadow of the Soliloquist

Haunted ever after.

XII

Her pace is quickening.

The river must be flowing.

XIII

It was night for an eternity.

It was ashen,

And it was going to be a luscious midnight.

All the winking stars went to sleep,

And Death shuffled on.