Is this path I'm on the correct one? And to whom am I connected? To what? What forces drive me onward? Are these memories worth holding onto? How does one have a fresh start in such an uncertain world and in such uncertain times? There is faith, not just in the supernatural, but in nature itself, faith that somehow these paths and patterns will fold back in on themselves and all make sense in the end. Maybe it won't make sense to any of us, but if all the pieces were laid out perfectly, we would see how it all turns out. If we heed the call of the Goddess then maybe we can save ourselves.
Whisper's End
Caught in a quiet whisper
Sighing between the leaves
In the embers of a fire's reach
Lost in layers down beneath
I'd recognize it almost anywhere
That subtle perfection intertwined
That speckled splotch of moonlight painting
Your perfect beauty so divine
The Goddess of that elder woodland
That forest deep of verdant green
Valleys stuffed so deep with thicket
Branches bending scraping weeds
From the corner of my two sore eyes
I sense the presence of your love
Your figure spread like raven's wings
Your soul impossible to touch
In that stillness filled with music
The endless slumber's lonesome song
You find me here on knees still creeping
Hidden in the underbrush
A danger to myself and others
Holding torches I daren't drop
For love's lost memory still winding
Through the driest kindling and green tree tops
This animalistic remembrance
Of transformations left incomplete
Pieces of the puzzle lifted
And the promise of a hidden lust
Drinking deep the hungry water
Caught up in your cleansing light
Trapped in my personal Damascus
Visions of that holy night
Voices ripple in the river
Echoes emerging from the pond
The water filling up my lungs now
Aching to be swallowed up
Crushed under the thickened blanket
In the mists of mental fog
Crying out self-sacrificial
Dashed like a babe against the rock
In the crunch of fallen leaves I find you
In the sullen sadness of my heart
I remember that I am forsaken
That I never was enough
A beast of burden never lovely
Born through and through a lonely son
An evening star with no constellation
A cloud beneath a blood red moon
I wear this crown still unadorned
Self-immolating for your cause
Set ablaze and covered with barbed thorns
Hoping to catch your ardent call
Monstrous madness quite complete
I make myself out to be a man
And come out of the woods concussed
Dreaming of the whisper's end
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