The Boy

I wear the flesh of the silent gods
created from immortal stars
and tormented roots of the earth
washed over with silver blood
marked with the flame of their dying hearts

I wear the skin unwillingly
tearing it with my sins
staining the fingers with ink of death

until the light flays it off my soul
to leave breath and pulse
clothed in agony of cursed stars
and tangled roots of the forest I called home