The Red Gate

I haven’t written a poem in quite a while, but last night these words came upon me:

life supreme
the all of true
inevitable locks
the keys to locks
shapings worn
open gates

arcane goddess
embodies the world dream
and we in soul evil
world vain
rent our knowledge
from prison darkness

open the gate
a plums song is heard
on whistles way
completing a distance
once traveled
in sweat and sleep

before we mourn
the death of dreams
let creative forces live
mending nature
let it be as itself
of soul beautiful
all beautiful
in what goddess wings

that in all fertilities
flesh forces us

then we come to a
gate like love
to denounce the
vultures of form


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