Tree of the ancients

 Beneath shriveled branches of a tree so dark  
​embraced as my fingers paw o'er awesome wonder  
​gray, burnt, peeling ripples of bark.  
​I feel your spirit as a familiarity  
I can hear my mothers voice as she  
​speaks with unknown clarity and say's...  
 
"Let your heart and magic guide your search.
​Birds dare not perch in a tree of this searched out sort  
​they will rebuke its leafless hands, invisible evils  
​they sense, rejecting nests and shelters seeking fort."  
​  
I know of the witchcraft cast upon thee...  
Master's curse for disobedience encasing you in this detestable tree,
​force thy mouth quieted in silence and hold not your tongue from me.  
​  
External worship and internal eroticism my mind remembers  
​of spoken lore and your legends seeded in haunted timbers.  
​Alone, for acres misshapen and twisted you stand  
​with young neighboring beauties planted in colors of bloom,  
​snickering and teasing thee throughout this old bygone land.  

​A demon and face shifter you were....feeding on fornicated sex and carnality,  
women see only the face of their most tempted adulteresses desires.  
​Never doth two women envision the same face through lustful eyes that stare.  
​At times not even one word spoken and yet....they allow to dare.  
 
Favored tool was he... he was said to be, a most wanted instrument played.  
Sufficing the masters request's for sexual sin and souls freely given required...  
after all... his master is the master who created the language of all liars.  
No matter, a royal or a paupers daughter...  
​between her thighs a pathway to intended and dripping fires.  
 
Ah...but one rule his master repeatedly forbade...  
never love, never love, never love....he said.  
 
Demons don't love!.. but this one you did .  
A mortal beauty who saw the true demon of you,  
​yet understandingly loved all of you, forever within.  
​What else is a black heart to do? ...but  
fiercely protect your demonic love from
master's expected wage ending in dark sin.  
 
​Condemned forever in this frightful shell of a tree for all to see  
​hideous beauty once adored by numbers times infinity,  
​now stands unattractively as lonely as lonely can possibly be.  
​How can you fall blame for what you are born? Given what  
​you were given, never asking for these cursed horns.  
​  
Hear my voice and give me ear, for I have come to thee  
​that you may not suffer no more morrows of another year.  
 
Perhaps you have no magic remaining in your ringed core  
​and his curse too powerful to see or speak a reply to any once more?,  
but know this, my old quiet one of ancient lore...  
I have traveled many centuries and legends to find you, my  
​heart never healing from emotions that fester and sore.  
​  
Here beneath your wooden tomb, sits the fruit of your beloved's womb.  
​A child of legend and beauty resented and cursed...but survived by a  
​mothers love and lessons cradled in tightly held bosoms of hers.  
 
This ​inherited beauty from you.. of times most attractive faces...marinating in the lusts  
​and wishes of men forgetting their vows and places.  
 
The sweetest of mortals was mother, so fragile and heartbroken.  
​Never ceasing to teach me all she learned of you, with each  
​purchased token.  
 
Her words rang so very revealing and true,  
when her remembered face first time shown...  
just as she said it would...onto my own ...  
as I stood before this old tree of you...  
 
Shall the black birds forever peck at this heart as thine?  
​NO..NO, I cry....for I am a master and overseer of the many beautiful faces  
of mine. Alas, the time has come to end this drudgery shrined!  
Hence, morrows of never will you be alone and without your child's love,  
my dark father divine.  
 
​We blood relatives of the Nephilim and angels, older than  
​the stories of all the bibles and their writers, cursed  
​and cast out of heaven for loving the beautiful below.  
​  
Mother knowing of my ageless body and never ending death and time being my foe..  
​to be alone as this forever, if my father and our kind I never find to know...  
​To an end comes this long awaited search for thee,  
​I have finally found you, my partial black heart is caught in raptures of sanctity.  
​  
Be not angered at my desperation and signed decree,  
​by I, your loving daughter, to do as you...  
my ancient father, did in sinned duty before me....  
face shifting, gaining souls of men seductively...
​A pact with your master, I have made wholeheartedly...  
to end both our torments and set thee free.