Live from Cairoston

Mon amort

Infatuated virgin awaits her knight,
Like I await my fate.
A rumbling breast, and a brittle core,
a flickering light,
and a dried up shore.
The tree of life will branch and grow,
Like that vine rooted in my heart.
Innocent, childish tendrils,
In fact are tentacles,
slowly capturing my soul.
I am pregnant with death,
and every morning I awake,
proud of my growth,
but wary of that moment of truth.
For after the shift,
from mountain peak to valley,
I await my escort, to the darkness of Depth.
Through moist nourishing earth,
take me Mantis to the Eternal Breath.

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