the forgotten goddess
She is night’s silhouette, a shivering form of netted constellations stretched taut by the hooks of her thumbs. Rome’s jagged, crumbling ruins are She, the fallen empire. The mute Harbinger; an indecipherable compass rotates endlessly in the hollowed grave of her heart. Salt cedar and wood smoke, blackened burnt soles of her feet leave scorching welts on her antagonists’ wasteland, but who? For she leaves no shadow, all black flame and heat with wolf’s dagger-teeth. Flitting between lips of mortals, slipping through the cracks of inconsequential conversation. Words bequeath her: Chaos. Destruction. Queen, scoffs she, but her words are a raven’s croaking murder and she is but nothing, an idea, a temptation, shuddering into bleak moments of existence when her claws shred through the fabric of being.
Decay is the irrevocable expense of Death and yet she is not worshipped as the Giver.
Normal User
Normal User
