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Death, the Maker
- Death, the Maker -
What mortal age of years was I, what true living age what I?
When last I beheld the glorious sun, the blue of daylight sky,
Before the darkness claimed me, and I recall never fully why…
Why, I had never seemed to so care, what mortal age was I!
I know not the season when first the darkness filled my blood,
I am surely ageless now, so to recall wouldst matter fully not…
As in the Temple of Ereshkigal I served for a time in mortal life.
Since, service to sublime darkness, was ever my destined lot…
As I sought an end to my torments, an end to my life’s strife,
For hardship was the way of the world since its’ first making.
Only in the Temple didst I find any semblance of true peace!
When Death’s blood was offered me, my own for the taking,
I drank that sweet nectar, hoping all my woes wouldst cease.
Was that the first time I knew the taste of its’ otherworldly gift?
For I knew that I had walked in such a way long, long before,
Perhaps I served the Goddess in the Underworld’s cold rift…
Whatever the case, of her blood I craved wantonly still more!
She made of me a god and a goddess all in one perfect form,
Transforming me by the magic of that scarlet nectar so warm.
All that I had ever been, at least before all mortal seeing eyes,
I was no more, for she gave me a strange and beautiful guise.
Ws I something far more than prior, or something much less!
I knew I was divine, but just how much so I couldst not guess.
I was not quite a woman, but neither was I, in truth, a man…
What I had been before, I did not even dare to contemplate,
And to this day, I do not think that there is any way I so can.
So long have I now lived, in this beautiful and unearthly state!
Death had shared with me her darkest hunger, now mine own,
Long wouldst it ignite the fires that raged: within my dark soul…
Setting ablaze desires that went beyond mere flesh and bone.
Her desires, shared with me as part of the price, part of the toll!
We wouldst be linked forever, as earth is ever linked to stone.
I regret not my reshaping; I suspect that I never truly ever will,
For in my soul she is there, and I find so much comfort therein!
Perhaps a part of me revels in her hunger with a perverse thrill,
The part of me that hath ever been most inclines to hotly sin…
The part of me that glories: in the blood of a fresh spiritual kill.
So dire is this, her madness, yet I find that I do love her, still…
Ereshkigal my maker, goddess, mother, sister, self: and love.
In the dark depths of the Underworld, dist I not serve so well?
I serve thee yet, ever here in this living world that lies above…
For, we are bound together in one flesh: dark nobility of Hell.
Death be the maker, like some dark creator from far beyond!
Those like me art her eternal children, wicked yet so very pure.
We art kindred, we art united, dark serpents in Death’s pond…
Why should we wish to venture beyond her chill, mystic shore!
She hath given us all that we couldst ever truly desire or need.
Out of the Abyss we hath risen, all in power and infernal might,
So, let the souls that sustain us burn and let their forms bleed…
What art they to us, we ancient children of old Mother Night!
The scarlet sons, and dark daughters, of Ereshkigal’s delight,
So lovely, and so deadly, like roses with sharply thin thorns…
Red and black: sparkling jewels, amidst cruel mortal storms.
Such delicious pain, and such exquisitely extracted pleasure,
Here a dagger, there a kiss, intense beyond all true measure!
In one breath I must scream, in the next I must to softly sigh,
Immortal, I go beyond it all as I live, I die, I live and so I die.
Passion is my nature and the darkness my sober expectation;
The songs of angels do stir my spirit to rise to higher things…
As do the dirges of the damned, awash in a fiery lamentation,
Yet, the Goddess is the glory of all creation when she sings:
Celebrating life and death, amidst infernal queens and kings.
What mortal age of years was I, what true living age what I?
When last I beheld the glorious sun, the blue of daylight sky,
Before the darkness claimed me, and I recall never fully why…
Why, I had never seemed to so care, what mortal age was I!
I know not the season when first the darkness filled my blood,
I am surely ageless now, so to recall wouldst matter fully not…
As in the Temple of Ereshkigal I served for a time in mortal life.
Since, service to sublime darkness, was ever my destined lot…
As I sought an end to my torments, an end to my life’s strife,
For hardship was the way of the world since its’ first making.
Only in the Temple didst I find any semblance of true peace!
When Death’s blood was offered me, my own for the taking,
I drank that sweet nectar, hoping all my woes wouldst cease.
Was that the first time I knew the taste of its’ otherworldly gift?
For I knew that I had walked in such a way long, long before,
Perhaps I served the Goddess in the Underworld’s cold rift…
Whatever the case, of her blood I craved wantonly still more!
She made of me a god and a goddess all in one perfect form,
Transforming me by the magic of that scarlet nectar so warm.
All that I had ever been, at least before all mortal seeing eyes,
I was no more, for she gave me a strange and beautiful guise.
Ws I something far more than prior, or something much less!
I knew I was divine, but just how much so I couldst not guess.
I was not quite a woman, but neither was I, in truth, a man…
What I had been before, I did not even dare to contemplate,
And to this day, I do not think that there is any way I so can.
So long have I now lived, in this beautiful and unearthly state!
Death had shared with me her darkest hunger, now mine own,
Long wouldst it ignite the fires that raged: within my dark soul…
Setting ablaze desires that went beyond mere flesh and bone.
Her desires, shared with me as part of the price, part of the toll!
We wouldst be linked forever, as earth is ever linked to stone.
I regret not my reshaping; I suspect that I never truly ever will,
For in my soul she is there, and I find so much comfort therein!
Perhaps a part of me revels in her hunger with a perverse thrill,
The part of me that hath ever been most inclines to hotly sin…
The part of me that glories: in the blood of a fresh spiritual kill.
So dire is this, her madness, yet I find that I do love her, still…
Ereshkigal my maker, goddess, mother, sister, self: and love.
In the dark depths of the Underworld, dist I not serve so well?
I serve thee yet, ever here in this living world that lies above…
For, we are bound together in one flesh: dark nobility of Hell.
Death be the maker, like some dark creator from far beyond!
Those like me art her eternal children, wicked yet so very pure.
We art kindred, we art united, dark serpents in Death’s pond…
Why should we wish to venture beyond her chill, mystic shore!
She hath given us all that we couldst ever truly desire or need.
Out of the Abyss we hath risen, all in power and infernal might,
So, let the souls that sustain us burn and let their forms bleed…
What art they to us, we ancient children of old Mother Night!
The scarlet sons, and dark daughters, of Ereshkigal’s delight,
So lovely, and so deadly, like roses with sharply thin thorns…
Red and black: sparkling jewels, amidst cruel mortal storms.
Such delicious pain, and such exquisitely extracted pleasure,
Here a dagger, there a kiss, intense beyond all true measure!
In one breath I must scream, in the next I must to softly sigh,
Immortal, I go beyond it all as I live, I die, I live and so I die.
Passion is my nature and the darkness my sober expectation;
The songs of angels do stir my spirit to rise to higher things…
As do the dirges of the damned, awash in a fiery lamentation,
Yet, the Goddess is the glory of all creation when she sings:
Celebrating life and death, amidst infernal queens and kings.
Published 5th Nov 2014
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Anonymous
6th Nov 2014 1:36am
Beautifully done my dearest poetess you done excellent
6th Nov 2014 4:52am
Oh, thank you so much sweetie! You are the best. Super happy you enjoyed my poem!!! :D
6th Nov 2014 4:10am
You make a handsome prince once and a warrior princess...you will always be them.Anyway your poems speak as always.
:) sometimes they are of things that people may find strange.
:) sometimes they are of things that people may find strange.
6th Nov 2014 4:58am
My thanks for the glowing comment, dear Grace! I am happy you liked this poem too. I believe that the things we have been are with us always no matter the passage of time or the bodies we wear or the times we live in... since souls and spirits are eternal, the totality of the self exists in an eternal now, whether it be in one life or another.
Some of my poems contain things that are arcane, esoteric, or occult in their meanings so that they will seem strange or mysterious to those who might not be familiar with their meanings. That is a natural consequence of this type of deep, dark, spiritually charged poetry. But as the saying goes: "Those with an ear to hear shall hear the message. Those with an eye to see, shall see the meaning." And those who cannot can simply enjoy a good read and not worry too much about the details. Tee-hee-hee! ;)
Some of my poems contain things that are arcane, esoteric, or occult in their meanings so that they will seem strange or mysterious to those who might not be familiar with their meanings. That is a natural consequence of this type of deep, dark, spiritually charged poetry. But as the saying goes: "Those with an ear to hear shall hear the message. Those with an eye to see, shall see the meaning." And those who cannot can simply enjoy a good read and not worry too much about the details. Tee-hee-hee! ;)
6th Nov 2014 9:13am
