Arms Plutonic

Would A woman as You turn away

For what THEY say? My sight shouts from Sheol 

While missiles of imprecations

Bless their detonations against my flesh

Mortal spirits hear this-the Aloness

Of a Witness wandering wastes and wonders

Blanketed by moonlight, thus blackened, hence one

Hears a blight burrow into the world

As though a tree tricked by Kali to grow

An anti-life birthing berries

whiter than dissolution. Would you,

A siren singing my drowning, offer

This fruit to me, or beg my leave?

Would you allow THEM to say you? What say You?

Enfold yourself in my arms & know no harm

–A hymn of Silence reigns now

Advertisements