Heartland

My world begins again
Two visions chasing affinity
Crusading for the veiled crossing
Over this river of pain
With neither sun or moon as guide
We tirelessly quest to arrive
United on undefiled shores
Finding only the mists of chaos 
Obscuring our horizon
What is sought can be found 
Seek only in the liminal places
For there in the shadowland
The prize lays dreaming
This place of neither night nor day
Where the heart makes its sacred home
~~Feral Goddess, A. Green-Muilenburg

SHROUDED WAY

I am yearning for other worlds

Realms buried between heartbeats

Kingdoms hidden in the flicker of a flame

Infinities veiled in the eyes of the outcast

Suffocation is all this world offers

Adrift on this sea of corruptness that engulfs all

A tainted existence caressed by fleshy automatons

Echoing their lives in orgiastic consumerism

Trafficking pieces of flesh to eat their own souls

Where are the high towers of knowledge?

The honorable guides to truth and uprightness?

I am seeking the hidden sanctuary

Show me the inner sanctum

I will essay the perilous precipice to find

That sacred place – –  the gate of my heart

~~Feral Goddess, A. Green-Muilenburg

Rebirth

I stand at the convergence of all creation
Here the old-world lays dead
And the new world is yet unborn
In cosmic thunder, I am conquered
For the vault of heaven cracked open
With a bloody cry the Uncreated One
Heralds the birth of the Divine Hawk
With soul stretched to eternity
I am made new again 
~~Feral Goddess, A Green-Muilenburg

LAMENTATION of YESTERDAY

I bleed yesterday
For that is all that I carry in my veins
My heart lives in the past
When love was young
When the chosen came
Through fire and desert
Simply to gaze upon my shrine
Enchanted with the gift
Placed at the edge of the creation
An oasis for the blessed

Before my temple was abandoned
A warrior-poet learned my secrets
Storming my walls
With words of love and power
Summoning me with gentleness
Singing me forth from high tower
Now the wind’s howling echoes
Promises of divergent tomorrows
And the unclean prowl my defenses
Keen as desert jackals for my flesh

Yet I will remain a wraith at my own gates
Until yesterday has bled me dry
~~Feral Goddess, A. Green-Muilenburg

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