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RYSA 'S ~ POETRY
Connecting Primordial/Ancient Wisdom and Electric/Celestial Consciousness


 
Eyes of the Goddess

Remember who you are.
Remember that you were born here with purpose and destiny
Remember to speak when the tide calls for your words
Remember to the Truth

The young kings are given the orders by the blind one
To march their warriors into the Valley of Death
Do they march or refuse the command of the mad king.
Do they kill the innocent and march with the stench of blood on their blackened boots.
Do they crush the victims’ bones and gather in the camp to sleep in nightmares
The young kings must decide the ones whose lives they take
They will never survive
The lie

~~
Eyes of the Goddess clear the tears of a child’s dream
Strange feelings well deep inside down old river streams
Fear rides with unholy terror as she seeks to end their reign
Time has come when men are given to know their shame

Glistening steel strip the vice of heartless men
In the stench of a thousand dead ripped by violence
King of a million graves states rights of vengeance
Smell the forgotten honor in the horror of the incense

Anger of the blood fire tongues call for more war
Goddess of the dying ones unsheathes the white sword
Cross on the battleground, fields of widows and blossoms
Last man to surrender his crown; empires of the forgotten

Gauged by might and leverage to hold the gavel down
Judged by history to be the knave, the fool, idiot clown
Captured parasites in a jar of glass end up on forest lawns
Bullets, guns, bombs and wounds memorized by pawns

Good King Feridum should never in his honor be so bold
To allow revenge to kill the sons of family before eyes cold
Soon the callous fame will haunt the halls of palace grounds
Moon clouded the names stilled in hunt all lifeless and bound

Forever see the white eyes dimmed and darkened by cruelty
Never believed the giant lies as the sinner calls for honesty
Mark the beast by deeds done before the summer heat falls
Lost ships retreat to sail the winds of disgraced indignity   

White sword unstained, sharp for pain, not dull for mercy
Ancient holy orders chant the chorus called in fateful grief
Bring not visages to the altar demand the presence of the chief
Revenge is sick, feared desire, Empires and Kings are cleaved

Rolling dice, snake eyes black, seven years given him
Royal king breaks the laws demands rights of killing
Tread not on innocent lives; soldiers act with honor
Remember his face before you take your oath of valor

Honor the warrior bond not the imposter’s paper throne
Bring the accuser to face the man and cast the first stone
Goddess of the night returns with the white sword of truth
Fear her passion as she strikes with the fire flame of blue

Glistening white the swinging spirit cleans the battlefield of life
She flies with the gift of passion and fever and the shield of night
Listening to screams without hearing to protect the rights of love
See her eyes drawn to sleep as her feelings rebirth the light

Morning dawn, rising sun, golden lands are given
Overlords gone, darkened ones done, old men teaching
Storms calm, winds slow, angels bring lavender and frankincense
Kingdom comes to the shining ones of valor and forgiveness  




Rysa _^_ 8/25/07

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