If I was the sky, I’d have two eyes.
One for warmth and one for tides.
Bringing Gaia, bringing life.
Stars, patterns.
Within a web, where we lay our heads.
Spiders and flies, in a survival demise.
After all this, do we still rise?
Planets swirling, my heart is yearning.
Love is burning, and I am in the urn.
After all this, do we still need to learn?
My self is who I love, I am the Holy Dove.
Empress in a war, against a cruel world.
I take pleasure in thinking of The Holy…Knight.
Coming to save me, from the sanctified knife.