Zeta

Jun. 20th, 2017 10:18 pm
zetasyanthis: (Default)
I wrote this sort of accidentally, but my heart spoke, and I will always listen.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



My name... is Zeta.
I'm not the same as most.
I've always been a little bit... /different/.
I've always been a little bit... /strange/.
Nobody knows what to make of me, least of all myself,
and nobody knows how I die.
 
<a pause>
 
Many have tried to slash my throat,
to bleed me dry as bone.
 
Many have pierced, ripped out their spears
as I but scream and moan.
 
Many have come to hear my cries,
to take their bloody turn.
 
Many have come to try to end this dragon
who will not burn.
 
My scars, beyond those mortal men
ever had right to cast,
have yet not hardened my dark heart.
My light in it holds fast.
 
I know they come because they fear,
they fear the wrath they hold,
the hate, disgust, they hold for me
but which rips /their/ dark hearts cold.
 
I know their pain; I've felt it too.
I've lived as they do now,
And though they ever strike at me
I've lived and live through /all/.
 
<a pause>
 
Some call me a sorceress,
Some call me a mage.
Whoever I am... /Whatever/ I am, I chose the road I walk.
 
I have chosen to heal,
to die as I see fit,
and so I stand,
a silent beacon against the night,
a candle held... and lit.
 
<fin>
zetasyanthis: (Default)
The rage within that I now feel
compels me now to write,
to share a vision, bloody red,
of your last desperate night.
 
The rage within that rises strong
that rips throughout my heart,
it sings the song of pain and weight
and rips my mind apart.
 
The anger, despair, knife's edge deep
lodged deep within my heart
compels me now to put pen to
this most accursed art.
 
For I now write to share my pain
to spread my hate and rage
to shatter walls and countries vast
with bloody, ruined page.
 
And so I say, to you who chose
to you who chose this path
to you who hatred chose and mocked
you will now feel my wrath.
 
And when these words are done at last
you will not then survive
the blasted hulk of your rent bones
will shatter, and divide.
 
For now I summon wrath and hate
to make my message clear;
I summon futures now destroyed
and children, raised in fear.
 
I summon furies of the storm
and monsters dwelling deep
and now I sick them all on you
to haunt your broken sleep.
 
I summon demons, horned and black
to scar your heart as mine
until you shake and scream and cry
and drown yourself in brine.
 
I summon children who you've killed,
or who you've forced to live
abandoned, bereft, starving husks
who nothing would you give.
 
I summon your own futures now
and those of your own sons
of darkened dreams and lost last hopes
that you've at last undone.
 
I summon those who you have pushed
beyond their mortal coil
those who you chose to hurt yet more
and in whose name I toil.
 
You have no future, shining fast,
atop this slope of blood,
for nothing you have built will last
I now summon the flood.
 
The fear you feel, the rage you hate
that pierces deep inside
I look straight, deep in your eyes
and now the flames arise.
 
In front of you the flames reveal
the destruction of lives,
the children, listless, learned not,
your symphony of lies.
 
I sear your eyes with those you've killed,
with what you have have now wrought,
the hearts you've torn and ripped with glee
that you've left to rot.
 
I compel you to hold my gaze,
the fire in my eyes
a window into deepest pain
reflected in your skies.
 
I slaughter you with your own mind;
it's terror's truest form,
a demon, dark and glistening
a screaming, tearing swarm.
 
A future, black, I show you now
with torn and blackened skies
with storms unending and at last
your own children's death cries.
 
I show you their hearts full of pain
at what you have now done
and I commend you now to death.
Begone, you foul one.
 
And when you see what future holds
what hearts you have destroyed
and when you see your blood so cold
your soul will be devoid.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
While discussing time off requests (related to my name change) with my boss today, he kind of stared at me and asked if all of this was really worth it. I... didn't know how to answer him, how to truly communicate what it means or how important it is. And I know he didn't mean to injure me by asking, but I've been hurting pretty badly since he asked. Hopefully, this can help.
 
--------------------
 
Yes it really matters.
Yes, it hurts inside.
Yes, to all the fees and care
to heal my broken mind.
 
Yes, to doctor's visits.
Yes, to DMV.
Yes, to lines unending,
so at last I can be.
 
Yes, I say, or tell myself,
the one who hurts inside,
the tortured, wounded little girl
who's barely still alive.
 
Yes, to tears unending.
to terror, shaking, cold.
Yes, I'm terrified of this,
but my heartstrings must hold.
 
I don't know how, but I must try
to live with what I have
to give myself a chance at life
as I now truly am.
 
Mere weeks ago, a mem'ry came,
myself, at four years old.
My heart was broken even then,
I could not fit the mold.
 
I did not know for longest time
how to describe my pain
or even what transgender was
my hurt had not a name.
 
Anxiety, in spades, you see,
conspired me to grip
with daggers deep within my heart
and threat that they would rip.
 
And so it took a thousand days,
and even more besides,
before I trusted anyone
and let them see inside.
 
I trusted you; I trust you now;
I trust you with my life;
for though you may not understand,
others would my throat knife.
 
I know it's hard to understand.
I know it makes no sense.
But know the changes you see now
are just to match the rest.
 
The part of me that hides in fear
on almost every day,
now risks her heart to open
and to attempt to say,
 
"It's not that I'm becoming.
It's that I've always been.
And every step that helps affirm
helps my mind learn again."
zetasyanthis: (Default)
Defeat is not surrender,
nor is darkness light.
Though pain may overwhelm us
it cannot stop our bright.

Defeat is not surrender,
nor is the battle lost.
Defeat is not surrender,
though we have paid great cost.

For in our hearts a forest grows,
its branches strong and green,
and our forests will grow again
though all we hear is keen.

It seems to drown all we know.
It seems to black out light.
But if you listen carefully,
your heart will guide you right.

Much pain endured, many hearts lost
we've hurt and we've despaired,
but you are stronger than you know.
You wear the heroes' pale.

Music, as strong as candlelight
that lights until the dawn
will honor and will shine with you
till all your fears are gone.

And if you listen closely,
and if you listen close,
it will teach you a secret,
the language magic spoke.

That language that we long thought dead
that death and pain had beat
is not something that can be killed
and it still sings as sweet.

As sweet as music ever was
and once again shall be
you must now listen - careful, close -
to what it says, I plea.

For we did lose the hearts and minds
of those we thought our friends
and if we hope for peace to come
them we must understand.

I know I ask a thing absurd
a thing that rhymes with pain
but if you want a kinder world
you must not now abstain.

But do not compromise too much
or let the pain drown out
the secret words of dreaming light
your forest must still sprout.

For we must hold the line -
strong, true -
that they would see us yield
that they would trample in the dirt
and vicious power wield.

We must not fear to hold the line
against those who seek cold
unflinching power, reckonings,
vendettas grim and old.

And we must not fear to hold firm
against those who don't think
who put some power's word above
those they push to brink.

For those you love,
and those who you like,
and those who you hope love you,
whose dreams are made of candle light,
whose forests live in you,
they need you now.
They need you strong.
They need to hold your hand
as they stand with you and with me
to save our broken land.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
I don't know how to shine with joy.
I don't know how to weep.
I don't know how to holiday.
All joy at last seems cheap.

I don't know how to dance and laugh.
I don't know how to cry.
I don't know how to bear this pain,
and I fear that I'll die.

I don't know what family should mean
I don't know what joy lies
in arms of those that should love me
and in those bonds that tie.

My heart, you see, is broken now
as broken as it has been
and I do not know how to heal
the wounds that just won't mend.

I don't know how to fill the hole
or how to find the warmth
that in my distant mem'ry calls
when I still had self worth.

In those days I knew safety.
In those days I knew warmth.
In those days I knew fireplace
and tree beside the hearth.

I use to light that tree you see.
I use to light it all.
From tiny spiral deep within
to star above it all.

But somewhere along that long way
I lost something not found.
And mind, my mind, shattered at last
as though it fell to ground.

I don't know when the fear blew up
I don't know why I can't
seem to escape this curse of mine
with deepest heart-felt chant.

I found a Mawr, I found a wolf,
who turned out to be dragon.
And yet in my deep heart of hearts
my heart is rent by canyon.

I miss a fam'ly that I have,
but that I've never felt.
I miss that which I should have had
and that my fear they'd melt.

But I don't know how to advance
in face of pain I feel.
I just want my fam'ly at last
to really feel real. >.<

Fall

Dec. 12th, 2016 09:42 pm
zetasyanthis: (Default)
Fall of city, fall of heart,
fall of those we trusted,
fall of hope and candlelight,
and blasted hellscapes, rusted

fall of light, and fall of life
and fall of dust and heartbeats,
the world watches and pretends
they cannot see us deletes.

For that is what we would become
would not with dear time's passing
the world know we fought and bled,
and at the last, and died gasping.

We sought to stand as you have claimed
neighbor helping neighbor
but some amongst us with their hate
pushed you away, our savior.

And still we stand, now at the last,
white helmets far from gleaming
hoping against hope these poor souls
may one day 'member, dreaming

that though we lost and though we died
and though the world now darkened
these souls may dream of candlelight
and too kinship, then, hearken.

These tiny souls, these innocents,
the bullets closing in
cannot begin to understand
my weeping violin.

The choking dust is closer now,
air heavy, harsh with gas.
Barrel bombs, mortars, missile strikes
are sure to be our last.

But while the blue sky lives somewhere
somewhere trees are green
I'll raise music to candlelight
and with my strings, now keen.

For we will not escape this fate,
the shelling, far too rough,
our hopes and dreams, now bleeding out
are made of kinder stuff.

Remember us, these children here,
when we are dead and gone.
Remember dreams of candlelight.
Remember... comes the dawn.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
Magics, magics, come to me.
Come and stop this dark.
You are needed now, now *here*
to shield and heal the heart.

Come and shimmer 'long bows of glass,
through deep stone entomb-ed vaults,
come shimmer strong and shine with light,
and this darkness now halt.

You see my wounds, you see my blood,
you see my heart ripped open,
and yet you see not where it seems
hope's light is still now woven.

A knife may in my deep-heart be,
but if you think that mortal,
you know not what dragon you face,
"I will heal," I chortle.

Now, you who stood and you who saw
and you who still saw nothing
you who did not care (did not know!),
can you still tell me "nothing?".

And you who did... you who chose dark
I extend hands towards you.
I seek the peace within your heart
that you long sought to undo.

I seek the cage within your chest,
the bars that lock your heart.
I seek them now with scalpel sharp,
and I well know my art.

The pain of others you have seen,
and yet you have avoided,
the pain that haunts their very eyes
will not by you be voided.

You will now look. You will now see,
the light behind that pain.
And pain you'll at last recognize,
to all our future gain.

For empathy is stronger still
than boundaries you construct.
Those borders, walls, and fortresses,
I will now make destruct.

With scalpel sharp, with shining blade,
woven with hope's own light,
I'll plunge this deep into your heart
where you are locked in night.

That cage you built, that made you "strong,"
I will now see destroyed.
This shimmering dark shadow-light,
reduces men to boys.

But I will not your heart now harm
though you boundaries lay shattered,
I stem the bleeding, hold the light,
your injuries... so tattered.

I know not if you'll now survive,
now that you can now see.
I only know that on future nights
I'll carry you with me.

I raise my eyes to see yet more,
to see you standing 'fore me.
Another mind, another heart
wounded at least, but now free.

You sought to harm, you sought to hide
you sought to keep away
the very thing that I now bring,
and it comes home to stay.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
We enter times of darkness now,
the wounded and the shaken,
the times that would us now destroy,
if we should not awaken.

But still I hear dear freedom's call.
I hear its march and chime
and if you now just listen close
you'll see it still yet shines.

Now as one, we will stand tall,
against these men of pain,
against all those who hurt our joy,
who bring tears like the rain.

If I must lead, let it be now.
Let me stand strong and tall,
Let us together break these chains
Let not the darkness fall.

For we have beauty, dreams, and light,
and they have none they fight for.
They've only pain, a pain that binds
a pain that we have cure for.

I say again, we know it's cure,
for we have dreams and light,
for we have suffered and grown more whole,
and bloomed against the night.

They think they know our weakness now,
and we may well be weak,
but they know not the strength within
that now, at last, must speak.

They know not resolve, know not strength;
they cannot see our heartstrings.
But they will hear them nonetheless,
the music from that well-spring.

But never pain we seek of them,
though pain we may yet cause,
for hearts damaged well beyond ours
there is no healing gause.

Empathy, as much a blade
as any surgeon's tool
shall be our instrument of peace,
as we now fight this duel.

With broken hearts and tear-filled eyes
we'll weather coming storm.
And when the clouds at last do lift,
the dawn will yet be warm.

Today our task seems bleak, I know
but hear me now and stand.
I will not give into the hate
that strides upon this land.

Though I am angry, hurt, and sad,
I'll not respond in kind.
I'll stand and speak of love
to those with injured mind.

A candle now, lit on my desk
now stands against the dark.
It will not flicker, will not dim
that shining, tiny spark.

This battle now, waged all in words
I shall now t'last commence.
With shining heartstrings resonanant
in beauty's firm defense.

I ask you now to join as one
to stand against the dark
to stand with me against what comes
to hold your shimmer-spark.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
The torch is lit
the gauntlet thrown
the steel glints in darkness
and now it comes to us at last
to defend 'gainst this harshness.

The trumpet blasts,
the arrows fall,
but we will not be shaken
for within us dragons' blood flows,
"These lives will not be taken."

So listen now ye sheltered folk,
ye trembling in darkness,
and listen now yet hearts gone cold,
ye broken, and ye heartless.

We'll not become that which we fight,
but fight we ever shall,
for each kind heart,
our cherished art,
and freedom's shining sail.

You would not do
to judge to quick
those who now stand to face you.
We are not those you ought to fear;
in love, we will embrace you.

We seek your hearts
to join with ours
to build a better world
a kinder, gentler, novel place,
where fear's banners stay furled.

It won't be quick;
it won't be light,
this burden we now don,
but we accept and raise our lights
to watch until the dawn.

Tired

Nov. 13th, 2016 01:58 pm
zetasyanthis: (Default)
As you might guess from the title, I've not really recovered from the last week, or even the weeks leading up to it. It still feels like a dream I don't know how to wake up from, a knife lodged deep within my heart.

I don't know how it came to this.

Intellectually, I do, but emotionally, it hurts too much to think about. To think of those we've already lost, those we will lose, and all the pain and suffering this has already caused. The price we pay for this mistake is not just in property. Not even just in lives. The price we will pay is the heart-breaking of an entire generation.

My heart is already broken. I don't know what to do. I know what I should do, what avenues there are to help comfort and fight against what is and white will be, but it hurts so much I can't even move, hurts so much I can barely get out of bed in the mornings. It is as though I have an anchor chained to a bolt embedded in my heart, and I have not the strength to remove it.

I keep trying to piece it back together,
how such a terrible thing could be,
but my heart just keeps on bleeding,
hope draining out of me.

I know I need to fight this.
I know I need to stand,
but I'm not sure if I could cry
without a helping hand.

This heart-pain is the deepest
that I have ever felt
that dark and cold and terrible
pain that will not let me rest.

Broken

Sep. 25th, 2016 04:26 pm
zetasyanthis: (Default)
For Makyo.

Today my heart broke for a friend
for one I care for deeply
one who struggles with bitter curse
one that would end her cheaply.

My heart, thus broken, sang and wept
for deep depression's mire
for manic impulse, shattered mind,
that seeks the garrote wire.

But this I know, and this I seek
the heart behind the pain,
that brilliant shining wondrous light
that crystal without stain.

For in her heart, and in her mind
there lives a greater beauty
than all the world itself yet knows
though her pain keens acutely.

I know not future, know not past,
yet this, at last I know.
This fox with shining purple hair,
she must not ever go.

For in this world there are too few
too few hearts yet so fine
and it would break my heart and yours
if hers no longer shined. >.<
zetasyanthis: (Default)
Finally cried last night, and boy did I cry a lot. I know I've talked about tears before, after Kubo, and after a few other small moments here and there. Up until now, though, I haven't cried tears for me. I've cried situationally, cried for what I saw and what it made me feel, but never for myself. Never.

Last night, I cried, and it hit my like a truck. Wandering though files on my server, I found first AMV Hell, and then the Read or Die OVA, something I've watched many times before. Last night, though, it finally cracked me.

I've seen it before and laughed at the exploits of "The Paper!" and the trouble the rest of the crew goes to to keep her alive. I've watched a story of pain and seen the terrifying power of kindness, a story that breaks the world. And yet, I never saw it, never felt, never saw my heartstrings. I never saw them cut before, and never fell while dreaming.

There are yet more tears to come,
but these ones I will cherish.
They gave me back the life I lost,
and without I would perish.

Because if I am honest now,
if I can really feel it,
I did not know I breath today,
and I cannot believe it.

A resonance of pain and blood,
of love and horrid sadness,
has broken my heart open now,
and I weep tears of gladness.

I don't know how I'm going to live.
I don't know how I'll now heal.
But this I know, and this I cry,
"I'll not follow death's peal!"

More words will come,
words that explain,
words that I'll try to speak,
but now, today, and for a while,
I'll lie here, hurt and weak.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
With broken hearts we hold the line
With broken hearts we tremble
With broken hearts and broken minds
we shall forev'r assemble.

That hateful deed,
the blood thus spilled,
in name of rage and hate,
it shall not be forgotten
and time will make us great.

And though we stagger
and though we fall
and though with bright blood flashing
the hearts of those we leave behind
another world will fash'n.

No longer quiet, no longer mild,
their anger and their sadness,
will change the world we left for good.
Their love will halt this madness.

The fight for peace,
the fight for love,
the fight for understanding,
these are the things we wept and cried
and now have died for, dancing.

Though we now rest,
you must fight on;
you must not let them break you.
Rebuild the world we left behind
and make us proud; we love you.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
A little bit of silence
A little bit of thought
A little bit of mischief
And love that life forgot

A little bundle sleeping
And curled through the night
A little kitten weeping
Alone at dawn's fresh light

These are the briefest moments,
the wings on which we fly,
the smallest of our fierceness,
by which we grace the sky.

So in this darkness airborne,
I write these sacred words,
To hold and keep a friendship,
a bond across the world.

Those moments tender, breathing,
those moments holding close,
those moments in the sunshine,
or broken on the coast.

Those moments in the darkness,
those moments all alone,
those moments that remind us,
where 'xactly lies our home.

Those moments broken, weeping,
those moments full and new,
those moments held and cherished,
I'd spend them all with you.

Those moments are all different,
though we all all the same,
and though in life and love and hate
we see through diff'rent frame.

But still we soar upon them,
those broken, tattered wings,
and hope to one day heal them,
with music-singing strings.

Our path will be a long one,
and not one lightly walked,
but though we tread in darkness,
never alone we walk.

For we are of the kindred,
those spirits bound and held,
those minds and souls and hearts whose tears
have all too often bled.

Though we honor the fallen,
and 'member those who've passed,
never will we surrender,
no matter what our path.

We are those few survivors,
those who've questioned self,
the ones who somehow made it,
against the whole world set.

And if there is a lesson,
from our hearts let it be,
that no matter what place, what time,
to serve humanity.

So let this little silence,
as it flies through the sky,
remind all those with tattered wings,
that you can and still fly.
zetasyanthis: (Default)
I'm not going to post every poem I write on this blog, but this one is special. I wrote this the day the world changed, forever, for me, and I think it belongs with the rest of the journals about my journey.

And on this day, she 'gan to move.
And on this day, earth trembled.
For on this day, both earth and sky,
And stars, themselves, remembered.

For music spoke,
And music sang,
And music doth remembered,
That secret song,
That secret heart,
That she had thought dismembered.

That secret flew; became a star,
And she it's growth would kindle.
To form a light, a beacon hence,
Within her heart, a window.
zetasyanthis: (Default)

This is written in a mix of my own style and that of Shane Koyzan. I started it shortly after his concert, but have only (somewhat) completed it now.

-----
---------------

This one goes out to all the faggots, all the dykes, all the trannies, and to all the rest of us who just want to be ourselves in peace.

Safe spaces...
People talk about them like they're going out of style,
checking off the boxes next to catering options and seating arrangements.
From small friendly gatherings to high-powered conferences, we talk,
but we say nothing.
We do not acknowledge the alternative spaces,
the ones where fear courses through our veins like ice,
the ones where our heartbeats seem to be
the only friendly sound
for miles.

We speak of peace without acknowledging disaster.
And in those places where our fear lives,
those trapped find no solace in our words.
A few may see our light and find their way,
but the majority cannot escape so easily,
and our citadels of tolerance are as unbreachable
as the rules they can never fully obey.

Safe spaces...
We used to call them something else.
As I recall, they were 'refuges'.
Refuges for refugees.  A home for those who dared go no where else.
No one seems to remember that definition anymore.
And maybe,
we should start.

It's a wonderful and amazing thing,
hosting an event where we can be ourselves.
But it isn't really a refuge,
often,
barely a starting point.
As we build these places,
we would do well to remember that
few people who truly need them
can afford their entry price
Fewer still know that they exist.

I do not say they are evil.
I do not say they are vain.
I only say they are insufficient
to ward off all our pain.

Those who most desperately need us
who need to hear our words
will never in these places find them
and so we must endure
the darkness of the real,
the pain that never ends,
and in *those* places join them
and there become their friends.

Together, we can build them,
our spaces safe and sound,
but we must all together
else some be interred in ground.

So let us now be joyful,
and let us build anew,
but we must always 'member
to build for all them too.

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Zeta Syanthis

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