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Daylight 4U2C Jan 2014
A wicked woman told my love, "**** him and you will be free."
My love paused, and the wicked woman's old twig of a finger pointed off to me.
Love walked to me with tearful eyes, as if she had no choice.
I smiled wryly and told her in the softness of my voice, "Let it be done, and be free.
No sword is long enough to show my love for thee. No dagger, short enough to match my heart's beat.
So please my love, take your choice of my death. Choose what would be fit."
She didn't hesitate, just cry. She, slowly lifting a mirror from the dust.
I don't know why I felt I must, but I wiped the tears away just to savor her touch.
I looked into her sad blue eyes, just for one more glance. Then I shut my own.
I could feel her lift the mirror, this was her chance, let it be known.
A crashing blankness came down on me, soon after the last things I heard.
"I'm moving up, and you're moving down." These were her last words.
I didn't understand them then, but now I think I know.
She will one day be in the warm light, while I'm still stuck in the cold indigo.
I'd always run up the down escalator, like a crazy kid.
She always said, one day I'd trip.
And now I finally did.
Willow Grierson Apr 2014
Weave a web,
A web of lies.
Hide it all.
All the ties.
Magic at your fingertips,
demonic tidings,
A beauty in the fear.
Burned and Tied
at the Stake,
Ancestors fate.
Hide it,
Hide it deep
Deep inside you
Put to sleep.
Time will come
For you to show
Your eyes will find home,
your heart will soar
Free from your chains,
free from restrain.
Show the beauty,
Show the grace,
But never,
Hide your face.
So I'm writing this book and this mother is a witch, telling her daughter a lullaby to keep her safe.

— The End —