Behold The Sun

Behold the Sun!
Brazen blissful golden cremated dreams,
Yes my dreams are dying in your arms,
Bloody joy dripping upon the petals of a lone growing flower in a hinterland of emptiness,
my heart undressed,
I melt into your embrace,
Bitter sweet taste,
Bright sparks flying across the face of a dark scene,
No longer afraid,
Troops of colour gather at the edges of fields green,
Humid tempers lurk beneath the sullen surface as the fuel of my terror unfurls and whispers words of birth, Stop! Its not time, the spilling of soul on this field is pre-mature,
Stop! The spilling of tears over these dreams must precede WAR,
Look me in the eye and feel your thirst,
Your thirst for my blood,
Your love,
She is LOVE,
Expressed through sword and scream,
For everything that preceded this moment helped us into being,
We are children of WAR,
Scarred by our own rejection of something as old as life and death,
Like this, for as long as there has lived the breath of animal or woman,
SHE seeks expression through mass social intervention,
Yet she finds no ritual, no ceremony, all those were stolen,
She finds no canvas, All those were burned,
She finds no pen all those were given to starving children,
so she gives birth to sword from breast,
War is the answer to questions arrest, locked up in darkened grave sites, outcast and repressed!

I evoke the power of the Sun,
I evoke the one,
Outcast woman of wounded wild beauty I welcome you,
Like a weeping willow welcomes wind,
Like a widow welcomes earth,
Like a wintered hunter welcomes hearth,
Come, take your place at our table,
We toast your passion,
Stripped naked at the table in your honour,
We are raped by rainbows, ravaged by originality and forced into submitting our deepest truths,


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