A Spectre, or Anastasis.

I barely noticed when the talk had stopped,
and, for a moment, stupor kept me light
and my forehead unperturbed by Time.
But, just not a second late, his icy hand
rests on my frame. My breath becomes, then, thin.

A diluted soul sinks within itself,
and its been a while since mine has risen up.
The wheel of Time has screwed around my brow
and so the present froze within my mind.
The world opaques and I become undead–
not quite alive and yet having not died.

A mere specter I’ve become, slain by love.
Semper Tyrannus! Always subjected
to myself, I beheld a great lord enter here.
Waiting, again, to feel alive,
I knew their warmth would wipe away my crown.

Yet, to expect salvation is to burden share,
and love for you I can’t betray.
So I will, by will, drag myself to life.
No longer will I wait to be rescued,
but meet you ahead, dancing in the stars.

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