Wendigo encounter
The heart of the forest, home of the wicked.
Where lost souls ponder in distress,
I follow its trails, with longing desperation,
running and taking the blood off my hands.
I stop myself every now and then,
just to ask myself, “did I cross the line again?”
Drained by the usual way of civilian life,
I yearn to please myself, for a moment.
My mind inferno, deep inside,
just keeps feasting on my tempted crimes.
I’m on my knees, surrounded by the darkness
Of the void, a place with no better intentions.
But I look up, to see a creature of great terror,
A beast, the worst version of myself, lost in the trenches.
A Wendigo, so they call the dreaded monster.
A nightmare form in human flesh,
Whose vicious hooves, deer-like antlers,
and soulless eyes lead me to a familiar fate.
A corrupted mind, fueled by misconceptions,
Weighted down by a common past mistake.
If I could tell us apart, and admit we were sane,
Maybe I wouldn’t have to realize
That there’s no denying it, we're one and the same.
What does it want? Who does he need?
Maybe it looks for someone who is just like me?
A mind so fragile, held by its weakness,
Driven by temptation, to please itself
With inhumane urges for happiness
Over the torment of others, just for oneself.
He and I are one, and he wants me to be like him.
Maybe it wants me to please myself every now and then,
not to be afraid to cross the line once again.
​
By: Sebastian Oliver
La añoranza de mi tierna araña
En esos inexorables días donde la luz meliflua de la luna caía,
Donde el hosco tiempo me llevaba a la luz apacible,
Donde el único sonido era el tintineo huraño de mis problemas inocuos.
Mis problemas, eliminando paulatinamente el tejido de mi alma.
Las sombras huecas de mi corazón llano,
Danzan sobre el tenebroso apretón que me ataba a ella;
Cuya quietud bulliciosa cosechaba añorantemente los hilos de mi ser.
Mi ser, atascado dentro de la telaraña sutil de su vínculo áspero.
Los quelíceros dulces de mi araña amarga envenenaron mi entorno,
No pude brillar ni existir bajo el espectro nebuloso que cubría mi rostro.
Sin darme cuenta, caí en su adorada trampa.
La trampa que prolongará mi inexistencia, un eco silencioso.
Las locomotoras perforaban mi cerebro enmudecido,
Asimismo marcando el acecho de los ocelos amorosos de mi tierna araña;
El que brillaba bajo el destello de la anhelante luna.
La luna, alumbrando la tela lunaria que afligía mi mente enceguecida de afición.
El cuerpo de mi araña cínica me daba vida,
Al parecer, la resplandeciente prosoma realmente no reflejaban la brusca aureola de la luna;
Al parecer, la esclarecedora opistosoma pautaban el inicio de mi fin;
Al parecer, nunca me había escapado de mi añorante araña.
Por: Sebastián A. Marrero