Bend the ether, twill the steam and stitch your heart in every seam. Knot the nets that catch the death of those you’ve loved and now have left.
What is this temporal lashing’s crack that splits the air and heaven’s back? What is this frozen moment’s tome that steals your once last hope for home?
Frozen ropes and clinging ice do not your selfish heart disguise. Tho’ penance may you claim for pride, your lacking truth will ne’er deride the hatred that you held in fist, that killed him cold when called her, his.
Tears of brother’s death are not what grant you hope through what you’ve wrought. But only by your soul’s disdain shall ever spare the one you’ve slain! Your brother’s sword, his lover’s scent, through jealous hatred, hell you’ve rent upon the last one standing! You! That in this moment’s penance true will bury all your fledgling hope and leave you with just pain to cope with memories of the love you’ve wronged, of death no poem or sorrowed song could ever quite endure. So this your love and penance pure.
Wield the casting’s iron black, stoke the fire’s ashen slack that so restores the burning hell where lost your dreams now scream and wail! Pray to God through thick remorse that tears so streamed will open doors and grant you one last chance to claim forgiveness from those souls so slain.
Written in reflection of the story of Rodrigo Mendoza, who murdered his brother, Felipe, out of pure rage when he was found with Rodrigo’s fiancée.
Fickle love and fickle fate in paying such a penance.