Category Archives: Poetry

#2139

Posted on by
3
Hail to the Morrigan, Phantom Queen and prophetess!
Hail to the Morrigan, sovereign of the battlefield, carrion-crowned!
Hail to the Morrigan, Nightmare Queen!
Hail to the Morrigan, lady of blood and bone and belladonna!
Hail to the Morrigan!

Great queen, I ask for Your help in this time of struggle:
show me how to win the battle and outlast the war;
teach me how to survive and thrive on death like Your black-winged children;
make of me a witch and warrior worthy of fighting in Your name,
that I may neither falter nor give ground
but to my very last breath protect what is mine.

Hail to the Morrigan, Phantom Queen and prophetess!
Hail to the Morrigan, sovereign of the battlefield, carrion-crowned!
Hail to the Morrigan, Nightmare Queen!
Hail to the Morrigan, lady of blood and bone and belladonna!
Hail to the Morrigan!

Advertisements

#2116

Posted on by
Reply
something stirs inside me
sleeper, dreamer, enchanter
restless, longing to be free
from the darkness where I buried her

wake up, witchself, wake up
released from your long slumber
rise up, witchself, rise up
embrace your waiting power

hail, sister!

#2085

Posted on by
2

a summoning spell

I’d do anything for you
I’d do anything for you

silence
vague, incomplete dreams
the memory of a blade, cold and painless
where are you?
where are you?
where are you?
wax thick and dark as blood
candle’s unwavering flame
and yet, defeat

I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you

#2081

Posted on by
2
Little girl, don’t sell your soul to the angel;
he tells only beautiful lies
and his words are sweet as honey.

Little girl, don’t sell your soul to the devil;
he tells only unbearable truths
and his words are raw as smoke.

Be sure, little girl, not to sell your soul to them both;
one in each ear, their words will intoxicate you
and you’ll never hear anything else.

#2053

Posted on by
Reply

I am no princess
but I spend each night in a strange land watching you dance
and wake each morning exhausted.
This is no fairy tale
but I would prick my finger on a thousand spinning needles
to lose myself in your curse.
We will have no happy ending
but at the very least we will be together
at the end.