He will forever be
In my soul
In all the enchanted places
That greatly sparkle
Like ardent stars

Crack the sky open

And spill forth all that was hiding behind the curtain.

You will not hide the Truth from us much longer

and you will die trying

as we die fighting.

God always wins.

I twist the black smoky quartz crystal between my fingers,

Staring into the void of the darkness in it's shimmer,

Remembering how the stars predicted

That I would be, and am destructive.

I used to be the angelic who thought they could do no wrong.

Never fathoming dancing with the Devil.

Oh but not I, no longer.

Satan himself sees me at the ball and bows.

He knows to kiss my rings

Cause what a privilege it'd be to waltz with me.

Lilith my Mother, the one who will never bow.

I glide my tongue across my canine's

Only imagining the fangs of a lion.

I am a fallen angel, who painted her wings black.

I stare with blank deranged eyes, knowing I could disconnect

From whatever little soul I have left at a moment's notice

If it means ripping out throats to get what I want.

There is a fire roaring in my charcoal heart

And all I want is pure power.

More power, ferocious all consuming power.

But nay, not over the everyday people,

Only those who dare cut their eyes at me the wrong way,

the ones who question what I am capable of,

The ones who try to steal freedom,

and most importantly,

The ultimate power over myself completely.  

I stare at the crystal and throw my head back in a deep maniacal laugh, reverberating through my throat.

They have no idea who I am to become,

and really neither do I but one thing I do know is,

No one will be able to match my fire.

I want a man who remembers his Divinity.

In his full spirit, ready to create with me.

I want the woman who has remembered she is a Goddess.

Let me worship them in love and gratitude.

I want people who remember,

With Me,

Who we really are.

I already Am that I am,

Where are those who are?

How I long for a place of green.

Trees that give the freshest air.

Rain that washes away everything.

Cleansing the land, and cleansing me.

I am so tired of feeling dead inside

from seeing the dried out death all around me.

It feels like I can feel the land screaming.

Screaming like me for just a drop of water.

A drop of life.

I wonder what it must be like to constantly
Degrade your garden,
Neglect your garden,
Give it just enough water to survive
Yet never enough nutrition to thrive,

AND THEN

Still have the ******* audacity to blame the ******* garden
For not producing enough for you.