I may mistake the modern day for Salem.
We seem to be mirroring the crazy then verbatim.
Back then, the hysterical banter was of witchcraft and bewitchment.
Now it’s plotless allegations with no plausible way to prove it.

Someone accuses another of a devious deed,
No trial, no proof, I guess that’s no longer a need.
Just escort them, with haste, to the center of the stage,
Light the fire and burn them alive,
Leaving the liar to tell another lie.
The only witchcraft that I see,
Is how people, so thoughtlessly,
Get so passionate about events so petty,
That they become a mob, a stormy sea.
It has nothing to do with their lives,
But they see a cause and sharpen their knives.
A primitive desire to antagonize,
What we believe to be bad, but based on lies.

Truth has become subjective,
Despite its definition, objective.
I can spur a web of lies,
Witchcraft in disguise.
No need for evidence, it doesn’t have to be airtight,
Just enough to incite the urge to fight.
Isn’t that a sorry sight?

“Burn the witches!” They’d scream in Salem.
“Cancel them!” Is the modern verbatim.
They don’t deserve to tell their side,
Just shut them down and ostracize.
Guilty until proven innocent,
Dripping with bitterness and discontentment.
It’s a lose-lose for the accused,
At least they don’t meet their end at the end of a noose.

Perhaps the witches we need to burn,
Are the ones who accuse without evidence to confirm.
Why is the burden of proof on the accused,
And not the ones who defame and misuse,
Justice for a few moments in the news?
Burn naivety, which says that people always tell the truth,
And understand that, sometimes, people are just cruel.
Send the liars out into the center of the stage,
State their case, their proof, and who’s to blame.
Due process, not this foolish nonsense,
Based on feelings used against us.
Before we’re all bewitched by passion,
Which overcomes our reason.

I bite through you,
cartilage cracking like prayer beads,
your breath spilling hot
into my throat.

Fingers drip with your sweetness,
a nectar no fruit could mimic—
I gnaw, I swallow,
I make you mine.

Desire is a knife,
and I wield it gladly.

...There is no element, in existence,
equal, to me,
with the force,
and polarity, of you.

Take me...take me, further in.

I will not,
I could not...ever, resist you.

My will, is hammered carbon;
yet, this contract, of the soul...
it is ironclad.
Draw me,
into the tensity,
of your unbroken field.

Does your ghost, hover
like magnetite,
at the northernmost point,
of its own compass needle?

Does your shadow, dwell
in its arrowhead shape?
Does your heart, steel,
its directional pull?

I cannot pass you by,
but to be drawn,
into the divine gravity,
of your embrace.

Sweet...so sweetly,
do you hold fast, to me.

My lips, shudder,

tremulous,
with an irrepressible urge

to glue themselves
to the nectarine sweetness,
of sunbaked flesh.

Take me...take me, further in.

Leech me, of resistance.
Break me, of my defenses.
Shatter this separation,
that pulses fiercely, between us,

and pin me, to the core, of you.
Keep me, always...
yours, alone;
yours forever...

and worlds, may end,
castles, may rubble.
Entire civilizations,
may fall, to ancient ash,

Before these lips,
could ever dream,
of leaving, you.

The Sovereign spins string on its fingertips
Creating a tapestry of one’s existence
Forced and bound tightly with silk
Silk braided into barbered wires

Choking and constricting to the very core
Thread searing and branding the body
Trapped in a web of deceit
Puppeteering while I try to lead

Captivated by crystalline chains
Chains which bind me to the eternal night
I stare at the darkness
The darkness stares back

Writhing in these woven webs
Struggling and suffocating
In harmonious cacophony
Desperately clawing towards freedom

The crystalline chains crack
Braided silk unravels into strands
Woven webs wax and wane
Nature’s hold withers away

Released from the cocoon of futility
Threads of fate snapped and spindled
Forced tapestry destroyed and left undone
Replaced by a blank piece of cloth