False gods have to ask to be worshipped, You never had to. Maybe it’s proof or maybe you were asking in the way you cried, Gentle and feminine even at your lowest. You’ll say you never wanted the offerings but isn’t acceptance a kind of encouragement? I knelt before you and prayed that I’d find the strength to put my hands around your throat and finally end it but I never found the strength. I wanted to love you, I swear I did, but the harder I tried the louder I cheered for your undoing. When it came I wasn’t ready. I knew my idols were false but I wasn’t ready for the fire. Now I make my idols my friends, for if they weren’t, I’d have them dead.
❀ Cultivated as an ideal of womanhood, ❀ Ferocious and brave she stands. ❀ She is beautiful, that we know, ❀ Courageous, not concealed. ❀ When she walks, the people adore; ❀ In honour of her beauty, the trees bow. ❀ Song of praises are raised in her name; ❀ How tender, how sweet, ❀ How loving she is! ❀ Her skin no different from the sun, ❀ Diamond and gold no matching sight to it. ❀ She is ever-glowing; ❀ An egg to be treated with care; ❀ Never to be hurt, ❀ But to always be loved!