Guest
black candles dance to an overture but I am drawn past their flickering lure to the breathing forest that surrounds the room where the vigilant trees push out of the womb I sip the blood-red wine my thoughts weigh heavy with the burden of time from knowledge drunk from the fountain of life from chaos born out of love and the scythe the forest beckons with her nocturnal call to pull me close amid the baying of wolves where the bindings of christ are downtrodden with scorn in the dank, oderiferous earth we embrace like two lovers at death a monument to the trapping of breath as restrictions is bled from the veins in my neck to drop roses on my marbled breast I lust for the wind and the flurry of leaves and the perfume of flesh on the murderous breeze to learn from the dark and the voices between this is my will... the forest whispers my name... again and again “when the moon is full we shall assemble to adore the potent spirit of your queen, my mother great Diana she who fain would learn all sorcery yet
