The other aspect

Burning fire, scorching it and hating it.
It's full of great feelings,
but it hurts and hurts.
It suffers and it craves
for power and powerlessness.
 
And now it should be like this
that I put off my plumage,
and out comes a sprouting germ.
Leave my skin and my home,
yes, just like my current being.
Dark fireplace fire black and red,
Red and black is like death.
 
Why all the pain, why all the pain?
Can not I just be happy?
I know the answer, no way is too far,
but no one too only a bit too wide.
Whisper softly,
I'm shy again.
The smell of freedom smells of dust first.
Nothing seems new,
but everything just like smoke.
This is probably Hekate's work.
We all die because it has to be like that
We mourn and cry because it is the natural order.
 
Mars smashes and slaughters,
destroyed and smashed.
Even the destroyer who does his blind work, like the fire,
deserves respect and more than that.
 
Because only the liberation from the old,
as painful as she is,
lets us throw the ballast off the soul.
How else should we go? Or even fly?
Now I am going to the Hecate.
See the black in you too.
Let's love them and let them close to us,
when pain burns, it attracts us.
 
And with half a foot, already crossing the threshold,
still quiet, not praying too much knowledge.
I think she will be kind.
So sisters, hurry with me to your shrine!

Nicole