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.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: