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Goddess Enelne

sees herself in the skeleton of moonlight,
a sentient being in the whiteness of madness
where disturbing platitudes of murmuring curses
echo through the fascination of a crystal ball. She,
irksome black witch, bleeds green gems of woven
jade as an opaque pavilion of stars wades into
tangled clouds. In the darkness, She grows larger!
In the darkness, She grows louder! Holistic eyelids
like a scythe proscribe morbid dances drinking in the
calmness of tandem wines. The history of past years
inhale and exhale wildly through an open stare of pure
consciousness, finding a beacon to eulogize humanity’s
cries without censure. Relish in Her beauty, for She is
the Goddess of all natural things found beneath the skies.
Enelne! Enelne! The butterflies bring you treasures while
Katamba sends you His love. Take heart dear ones, for
The Great Mother of the Rakash, shall guard and guide
your souls though the many faces and multitudes of tears.