Saint Requiem
Author's Note: Enjoy the poem and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of the Psychic Force series.
Summary:
A poem based on Patricia "Patty" Myers' quest to discover the truth behind what happened to her mother. [Psychic Force 2012]
Patricia Myers, Psy of Tone
Her voice reverbs the sword-halls of history, a mellifluous dirge in eight movements
Emilio, the Psy of Light, crosses her on wings of an angel
She doesn't wish to quarrel
Mother's gift was meant for better
Yet she breathes a holy whisper in his ear, shattering his eardrum
Silent
She prays for his peaceful rest
Genshin, the Psy of Magic
His soul-trapping talismans beck shrine-ghosts to bedevil her
He tells her to renounce her power
To submit to the death-ogre's curse
But she cannot forsake Mother's song
Jangled sweet tones scatter the beads of his rosary
Revulsed life
She cannot trust the sectarian's lie that her aria is a weapon
Gates, the Cyborg Psy
He tracks the Psychiccer Hunter, bereaved of memory
He knows something she does not
Shells the sphere that orbits her pure heart
Missiles pelt her prelude keys
His mind cracks like a sorrowful elegy from her throat
Bilateral regret
She needs Might
Regina, the Psy of Fire
She seduces her to Noah's cause
Recruitment is staccato verse
It blisters and bursts Patty's stanzas on the fall of a sparking whip
They are chasing flames amidst a sonic rhapsody
Shots a-blazin'
Repudiated sin
She does not understand why fighting is all anyone can think about
Carlo, the Psy of Water
He presses her for blowing out his sister, a spiralling serpent
Suede suit smelling of gimlet
A javelin lanced through a revolving triangle
How does one douse truculence?
Reverse noise and then the bar slips into leitmotif
Lugubrious, reductive, syndromic
Why can she only inflict harm, when Mother saved so many?
Keith, the Psy of Ice
She petitions the leader of Noah: reveal the assailant's identity
Trussed in his gelid prison
This sterile, spine-chilling ark
Strum the eternal harp
Mother knows best
Burn, find freedom's lucidity
Make you happy
Might, the Psy of Lightning
He searched Noah at knifepoint, only to trigger such betrayal
Mother was murdered
Bitterly, Might dogs the wrong game
A hunter must hunt, even his own
Circumgyrating consonance crochets a holy purge
Fundamentally flawed locum
Did you mean to die from the beginning?
Wong, the Psy of Time
Mother's killer and master of The Army
They were but experimental subjects to him, empty illusions
His invitation is slow, a baptism of warning
The perfect world
Which Saint Requiem freezes upon
Bastardized fate, fickle substance
Patty sets off to meet Might, da capo al fine
