Godess

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  • Fantasy

    Godess


      In the shadow of early even,
    Her path did wander round the narrowed lanes.
    Giving seeds of thought in her mind conceived,
    Darkness round her head like a halo of mists,
    that would cover the latent graves of the long since dead.

    She took no notice of the evils of the night,
    took no thought in the loss of her quivering inner light.
    To who would she give the gift in her that burns,
    What poor sod or elder lord would by her side,
    find the true meaning of the words
    'I yearn'.

    Even she didn't care,
    It wasn't the who or the when, not even the where.
    Only the hunger that bade her go into the night,
    Another lost soul, abandoned by the light.
    One darken beauty lost to the righteous.

    But then what do they know.
    of what is right, and what makes the light.
    For in her arms many have felt themselves at heavens gate.
    Even when in sobbing glups and dire sounds of woe,
    Freely did the red flooding life of them pass over her soft lips.

    No one would care if their lives were lived as in a storm.
    But she cares, her path gently savoring all they are.
    Rest found in her arms complete and without fear.

    So that no one could tell if the ones she has taken to her breast,
    were bidden there by adoration,
    or by demon in goddess form.
    Only that they lay spent and in eternal slumber,
    wasted but for the smile still playing at the corners of pale mouths.

    Still on and on she goes, wandering here and there.
    Always soft spoken, always gentle of air.
    The silken goddess, allowing those that wish it to lay burdens down.
    Finding final peace in that sweet suckling sound.
    Darkness invading each pore, drifting sleep ever lasting.

    Would even the bravest of us fight against her will.

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    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

    Mylyfe’s Poems (55)

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