- Joey Morris
Pagan Poetry - The Morrigan, Silent in the Screaming
image - Natalia Drepina
Badb I lay across your gleaming Scythe And scream in silence I am unmade In the shivering tomb of my soul The cocoon splits Marked for the tearing of its tethering The pungent rot slops onto the floor Ripe for burning Frailty hangs around my neck like a noose Crushing my trachea before I can utter words of aimless self defeat The phantom stalks these halls Blade sparking against stone slab circles In places forgotten by man And spoken of only by dead tree spirits Her glory reveling in the remembering A low pitched whistle disturbs the living Humming the aching pitch of the Hungry Eternally underfed and underfoot Can you see them with your naked Crow eyes Painted black in your sundering A pale wrap lines the crown of stars Mending the broken lines where scars thread And memories bleed She caws out from void lined skies Wings outstretched in claiming Badb I lay across your gleaming Scythe Silent in the screaming.
Joey Morris 2019 - All my own work all rights reserved
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