The Day is getting late; Tulip, Daffodil, sitting somber in their graves.
And as the sun sets softly on a silent sullen world stage,
Wind whistles through dry leaves
And a voice is found to be heard.

With the shadows slowly rising and the colors drawn out,
My synesthetic sense of self deemed its beyond reasonable doubt
That the Garden’s still around us rooted in the night sky
And if you listen like a fox you can almost hear the birds cry.
My shadows standing now and she’s looking me in the eye
Her skin turns to scales, form resembles that of a snake.
She makes a sweet sound as she recalls to me her curse
That the silence she is suffering from, has finally run its course.
She says it the end of the era of our subservience to men
The power of the moon will enable us to rise again.
Let go of the questions you have for so long strived
There’s plenty of proof of the Goddess, just take a look inside.

She begins to breathe the life right out of me
Leaving vortexes in my heart, now she’s used me up.
A king through union, now an empty husk
Sacrificed for her Majesty to cycle on.

And she slithers towards me now,
Whispers a soft secret as she lays me down.
You’ve come so far but rest my child,
“You’re Death is here with us!”
In you, as in Me, your consort and wife
Beguiler, beloved muse,
“It is I who will take your life!”

And as my soul slips away, light tears through my form,
Becoming night and day, I am reborn.
She’s sky watching over me, water of eternal love
Mother of all being embraces me in her tender arms.