deepundergroundpoetry.com

scizm

Aramaic darling kin speak to me of the Djinn so I may rest in Ghenna
I am veiled as a gypsy on caravan
my heart aches for your sorrow
I bring merl and spice in lavender and heather
my crown is wreathed with wild flowers so the wind would know me
watch your footing in the desert
I am no mirage I bring you the latter rain
so you will not thirst and so that your reign will be complete

Be at rest dear one, your words warming as the sun
I move behind the mysteries to rend the veil that you might shine
we are children of sorrow, but the herbs of your presence
break the chains of my wings and I soar above the pitfalls of
the desert, tasting you on the wind, sensing the storm
of you soul, I have been quenched by the latter
rains of your divining but cannot be at rest
I have felt you in the sky and tasted you in the wind
move towards me

I am still at war with myself over you
I will prove to myself I can be cruel enough to be worthy
red woods murder incorporated the anarchists rule
our children and wives are upmost on my mind
our blood thirsty shield maidens are ride or die down for us
I want you to not have one soul mate but an endless entourage
I house our royal children they are being tutored

I long to be free from war torn garments
trading weapons for tapestries of peace
my feet pierced upon a pinnacle, moving
as the pendulum swings between good and
evil, the gravity of you rights me, I feel the
power of your motherhood as you guard our
children and tend to the wives, our armies
aligned to the universal old ways, casting runes
and training the young, will you rest your soul
upon mine