TO THE BEARER OF THE POISONED BLADE….
Try as you may to pierce the soft underbelly of my love,
With judgment, with rejection, in the name of all Above,
Wiccan I stand, Pagan I remain,
Witch I embody, Dark Goddess in my name,
Only in Love, never in Shame.
For to judge is to hurt, is to harm, is to create,
A division born of fear,
Hate disguised as Scripted Fate,
So listen to me, my sweet child, my dear….
I shall simply not reciprocate,
This boundary you try to create, the illusion to replicate,
For to your Soul, no matter the choice of path, I can relate,
The Same Song of Creation, in Matter Incarnate.
Slander me, and I shall love you just the same,
Betray me, and I shall forgive you with no hatred to your name,
But I can’t play the hate-game of blame.
Your dagger I remove with the Songs of Old,
Your poison I draw out and transmute to gold,
Silver surrounds and embraces the whole,
Healing vibrations through me unfold.
You can’t cut me down with hate,
Nor with pain can you bait,
For I go forth with Faith,
As Best I can,
Image Credit: By Rebecca Kennison (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/) or CC-BY-2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons