Poems
Poems of Antiquity
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The Goddess of the Night
demands her monthly tribute;
the sacrificial lambs
beg to be abused
by the crooked dagger
with the silvery shaft
that cuts through human skin
swifter than a quick death.
The command of my Luna
is to turn the tides of time
to whence it was long ago
when gods were simply gods
and heavenly bodies ruled the earth
where stars and suns were second
to the greatest orb of all.
I cannot do her bidding,
lacking the appropriate Faith
and so instead send my soul
on a dreadfully dark journey
where there are no lights to guide me
except that of my milky moon.