House 8

 
In the eighth house the sky unfolds
a kingdom of shadows and untold mysteries.
Where the ego sinks, silently shapes itself,
in deep waters where destiny is welded.

Here lies the feeling, so raw and so naked,
of self-effacement in an endless cycle.
Where the self is lost and taboo is born
to look inside and see what is bad.

"Why me?" echoes in the dark chamber,
where self-pity has its throne.
A heart that beats but is not assured,
you don't own the pain you feel.

Transformation asks for the eighth address,
a phoenix from the ashes it needs to be reborn.
But the soul in pity, stands there
in the comfort of the dark, not wanting to move.

The light of the stars guides the way,
promises that everything can be remade.
But the feather is a veil, a soft thorn,
that prevents you from seeing or really believing.

And so in the eighth house we learn our lesson.
That self-effacement is a choice, not a fate.
We can rise, with firmness and passion,
and leave the scarred past behind.

For every star in its right orbit,
teaches us that life is an eternal spin.
And in the eighth house the door opens, alerts,
for the power we have to transform ourselves.