True Love is Wanted Not

True Love is Wanted Not

Thinking of the years of wasted thoughts that fell to their deaths in the depths of the bottomless chasm of shadows, 

Seeking the retreating light as they gathered a deathless speed that sped them forward into darkness before them,

Groping for ropes or throats or the vapour thin roots of the nonexistent life force which created them for their ultimate destruction,

Lunging ever downward with mindful thoughts of things that never existed for the crop on which they would feed was never sown,

The womb which should have birthed them was ripped from its tendons and cast into the eternal fire of nothingness - lifeless.

Twisting and turning, sighing and soaring, wondering why in their lightness they should gravitate heavier than lead,

Pulled like a magnet and held in between - now plunging to places unknown, unseen, unventured - barren.

Distorted, mistrusted, mutated, torn - destroyed by the creator who unknowingly knew not what they were,

Death, a welcome release refuses to budge and sits unrepentedly, mocking the spiralling cognitions as they descend.

The residue of confusion sits at the edge and stares deep into the hollow wondering what in Hades has happened again,

For how can it be that now as before the signalled distress was not felt from on-high but allowed to escape, to slip and fall to Tarturus

To be birthed in Light and created as Cosmos, fleeing the ripping, tearing fingers of the Hundred-Handed Ones,

To haunt in the echoes of endless nights, taunting the heart of the unloved, the unlovable, the eternally doomed and ever forsaken.

Warrior Princess