She tossed askew the lace of light,
Into the darkness of the night,
Away from her,
They fromed in the air,
Rings of glare,
Like tigress eyes.
Her Sorceress had risen to the shore,
With a potion for lust ,for love,at core,
Her heart ,a broke tramp at ease,
Yearning for a life at home,at peace.
She was fleeing through the trees,
Past an airless breeze,
Away from the cries,
Away from her demise...
Once she had died,
And a lone wolf cried.
When she knew the song they played,
For each time she was ...dead.
She knew it by heart,
She sung it out loud.
And out they came like,
Like a raging hive,
Of bees at war,knowing that they had
Buried her alive,out they came.
With a hiss and buzz,
Out they came,
To bury her again.
A broken doll fell to the floor,
A cracked tear in her eyes she bore,
A ghost of tremble in her smilimg lips,
Within the walls where she sleeps.
They watched her,
Trying to read her mind,
As a baleful wind ruffled her hair,
Trying to seep into the dome they bind.
But death had worshipped her slumber,
Endorsed her mirror with a hued picture.
As a child she had urged upon Heaven
To be with her loved and loving,
But Today she craved for a place in the inferno,
Where her colors red,shall never go.
And she prayed for a last look at life,
So she could find the glass,she would hide,
She prayed she could never love again,
Under the sun,never smell the rain.
In her darkness, she found the rings of light ,
Circles of path, like the last spring tide.
Outside amidst the laughter and trill,
Amidst her cremation, came a neighing shrill.
With a drizzle,a whip, the ghouls turned to see,
The Human had come to his sleeping beauty.
Her alms of despair,
Remained a forgotten heir,
She had risen
Not the man,
She had risen
As her Woman.
And in one last haul,
she broke loose of the manacles,
That had bound her to her womb.
She chose to bear
Her child in her mind,
Sibling to her soul.
And He touched her temple once,
He who gave it light,
In his eyes she saw the ocean beyond,
In his hands the rings of Light.
Yet Human He was, not mere Man,
--- The one tangible door.
She breathed him in, possessing inside,
Close to her heart, close to her core.
He breathed her out, liberation to the air,
Rippling against a Illusion austere,
And their lives respired anew,
And yet...the ghouls little knew...
The ghouls had swung
With the swing of a rusty pendulum,
Back in time,
Before she was born.
A new star had come up.
Not the old sun.
The horizon was red,and blue,and green
And shooting stars littered the dusk ,sheen.
For once she knew she didnt have a rebirth.
She was born from the child in her mind.
She was born ,now, never to die.
She stepped across.
Through the frozen fire,
Past the blue moors,
Over the red hillocks,
Onto the sandy shores,
She had stepped across.
Into a world of the quaint
Where the dire was restrained,
And the fairies would water her temple-tree.
That hand she had held,
On her lover's trail,
It had no name,just a futurity.
It had no address,just the present touch,
It had no kin,
Just a home-coming past.
And she awaited till the day would be,
She could walk barefoot over the sea,
She could feel the windy graze,
And she would know,
At the heart of her maze,
She was,she wasn't a mere she...
...She was on the porch,today,
Come what day ,may,
Come she had,
On the porch of her destiny.
Had no one felt this way before?
When today seem to slowly unfold,
When the carpet would roll,
Down the stairs
Land at your feet in a single layer?
Like the future and past ,
Her all firsts and lasts,
Her mown and unsown,
All,a flicker,would threat and dare,
And love and laugh,
In one single flare.
That drizzle would then seem fateful,
And that soft fall of the petal...
That she wished she could have held,
With its sisters,in her palm.
And in her palm,the world,for her,
Would seem to graze,the world around the worlds,
And on her day, she is a world,
A woman,a girl, And right now,right today...
Come what may.
Shut out your vision and you will see,
You are at the porch of your destiny.
There is a myth,of a death long ago,
Its all over the papers and the radio.
The girl they say who survived
The attempted slaughter
At the hands of an archive,
Of promises kept and freedom
In words bestowed.
Of promises stolen,
Down the hill,from the highway,
By the river,in a den.
Dead,declared before the press,
Who was she,she who is distressed?
The beats were gone,
Her final cremation about to begin,
When with a sky-renting gasp,
Eyes two slits,red,furious,
And then tearful,the next.
God had given her a second chance,
But why does she still bear fury?
Angel from heaven,they call her.
Yet,as days roll by,quiet by night,
Sees into forsaken lives,she does.
There's the blood of her kind,
Shed in her own hands,
...When she is asleep by night...
Wrenching the night-air,
She awakens the sleeping world---
Save that soul,that bleeds to death,
Her screams explodes in my head.
Forces protect that girl in her head,
Who sleeps in peace in her soft bed.
Night past,scurrying footsteps,
The Devil is here.Death smiling in His wrath.
Death stumbles,grovels in the Dark.
His Light that betrayed him makes
His eyes unseeing.
The hour dismissed,the bells ring.
The girl is alive.
She shall live.
But an hour may not go to waste,
The Devil turns to the ghouls in haste...
And She,falls back to her sleep,
To talk to the Devil,
To discuss his defeat.
In her dreams,they make love,
For Devil has given her...
One second chance.
She tossed askew
The rings of Light,
Where they scorched a hole...
In the sky.