The world is full with void

And it’s fallacies,

so please martyr me...

I am the fool, priestess and

stagnant one;

nothing can suffice to me.

Moans and groans added

to the fire of your loins

have succumbed.

No longer in dire need of

bearing...

Undeniably, everything is breaking

a p a r t …

I take it upon myself

to do this quiet stance with you

in loom of the first blush

Callous stares affixed to

me: only bringing shame

The salvaged prayer; only

comes around once a year

A call, pure, long and throbbing,

It listens…