Lady of Fire Poetry; images from xstockvideo.
Of angels and psychopomps
We live glorious on top of luscious hills
with red wine centered on our tongues
This age brings us to the fall of prophets
From golden wrought spires to
Piss laden streets
And yet the world moves on
Just people with suspect motives
Harboring the Gollum lurching within
A crafty little hell we've created.
our souls on the dotted line.
There is no safer way to arrive
In the seat of immortality,
Moving like the weight of gravity
With our hands raised in blood
Those who would subdue us
will be delivered in a succubus' dream
Alongside the dispirited gods and
the fools with something to prove.