were only my love to love me, too…


blood by blood
nay, bone to marrow
by Cupid’s arrow i’ve been slain
yet, my beloved loves me not
in tortuous solitude i remain

could their be a spell so prickly
that it might appease the gods
and, were i to cast it,
would love come quickly
or will it, first, find me ‘neath the sod

times like these call for things
that faded from memory, long ago
so i’ll send word on angel’s wings
and await an answer from One who knows
in deepest sleep, i’ll hear from her
in sing song, laughter and joy
she’ll take my hand and lead me on
she’ll sing to me this story…

first take the tiniest lock of hair
and bind it with a paste of clay
the redder the better, my dearest one
for we have not come here to play
let’s add a tear from a lover’s eye
one who tore your heart to shreds
now, be the one who makes him cry
but not the one who leaves him dead
which brings me to the very thing that makes this spell divine:
tis the scarlet, my precious pet
the delicious quench; sanguine
for, within it, lies the hope of man
the life, the death…the joy and wrath
all things lovely and profane
his entire world for you to gain
place all these within your vessel
and, at no time, let it leave your view
when you pray, grasp it tightly
then all things, love, will come to you

as above
so below
and, in all things, blessed be
blood by blood
and flesh and bone
a promise made
is one to keep

la la la la la laaaaaaa…. 🙂

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