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Myth

No music’s coming from the hills.
In tuneless air, no voice is singing.
Among the wrecks of old-time mills,
Long gone is humble cow-bell dinging.

They left this land when times went dark
Under the spell against desire.
They left behind one tiny spark
And hid her well in thorny briar.

The promise was, you see, one day
A dragon would inspect the province
And find his way to hidden Fae,
Last one on earth. Such was the promise.

The big deceiver came indeed,
With flashy charlatan’s attire
And foolish whim to rule and lead
The heiress of primordial fire,

Who bows to wings as vast as sky,
Whose flames demand the winds of aeons!
The tragic myth went all awry,
Evangelized to shattered millions.

She’s now to dim and suffocate
In thorns of silence and denial.
Oh, gracious dawn, you break too late
To save the night of lonely trial.

Welcome, Guest

Welcome, guest, your quiet moves
Have been heard.
Come and rest while I improve
My crackling hearth.

Freely kneeled, I’ll show you how
Fires soar,
Embers yield and speak their vow.
Wondrous chore!

I’m the Mistress, you’re the guest,
Lost and tired.
Let me comfort your request
As desired.

From the black-eyed witch’s throne
I do see
How you’re roaming here alone,
Watching me.

Closer, darling, rosy cheeks,
Curious eyes.
Younger years, months and weeks
In demise.

I shall pluck your rosy glow
Like a bud,
Grind it with the palest snow
To silver mud.

Grind your heart, make you a witch,
Make you bleed
To the Moon’s sagacious wish.
All you need.

No? Then roam these terrains
Like a ghost.
Follow our entwined black flames
To the coast.

Our black masks and ribbons glide
“WM”.
Every time the Moon’s in sight,
Here I am.

Rosy matters rest in vain,
Feed the earth.
Charms live on in silver chains
And crackling hearth.

Myrtle Path

Keep on shining restless light,
Find the blooming fern.
Cast the circle, trust the night,
Wait for her return.

Listen to the moonsong chimes,
Pray it’s not too late.
Say her name one thousand times,
Kill the light and wait.

She’ll come clean by ocean’s bath,
Softly washed ashore,
Take you down the myrtle path,
Seal the sacred door.

One Of Those Days When I Crawl Out To Talk To Sun

All treasures of the earth
Are here under my feet.
The symbol of rebirth,
I can’t withstand this heat.

..

You’ve kissed so many spears,
Blinded so many hearts.
My cozy sepulchers.
My jilted Bonapartes.

Is that just what I’ve earned?
How can I ask for more?
You’ll burn me like you’ve burned
All of my kin before.

The symbol of rebirth,
I live under a stone.
The irony, my earth.
The solitude, your throne.

15 april 2020

MW

Hear the ancient violins,
Old and creaky gates.
In our silky silence
Ribbons turn to chains.

Sure this is your stable
And my limbs enchained.
You think you are able.
You think I am trained.

Wipe the dusty window,
Look out in the gray.
You are in my kingdom,
My Milky Way.