
Climbing Dress Mountain; Illuminated Tile; Collage, Paint, Mixed Media
More details on this tile. More Ascender’s Illuminated Tiles this blog.
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We revere your wax-flattered flesh.
We press our lips to many of your faceted images,
Our world is built with ancient emotions, flat. Perfection.
You live in our foiled boxes,
Unreal people, elevating our foggy lives.
Icarus-like, we fly at your sun. Burning.
Filled with false desire, inspired, blinded by your light
Too bright, others falter, faults woven large
Loom out of proportion, real life. Death.
Your voice falls in snowy drifts
Settling about our ears. We now hear your faults, fears.
Facing fragile mortality, we turn away. Broken.
Did you understand too late, your fate,
The fate of a paper god, falling.
Your mistakes undo what was great. Murderer.
We did what we had to.
That night, we tore down your temples,
Removed your icon from the altar/dressing-table. Unstable.
We wept for you, our fantastic fantasy.
You ended your days in a blaze,
But not quite full circle, you curled old and wrinkled.
Twisted by fate.
Bonfire fodder,
Fallen.
Paper Gods by Liz Palmer-Smith
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Climbing Dress Mountain; Illuminated Tile; Collage, Paint, Mixed Media
More details on this tile
More Ascender’s Illuminated Tiles this blog.