January

Issue 40

Look, you have no ring of truth lost, stolen or divine. I have poured out for you milk, honey and wine. You frighten me more than anything I have seen and I cannot believe that I am hearing words from you. Whiter than the bones that draw you here, pale as your moonlight home, you cannot deceive me because I can see through you. I can see where the words are coming from deep within your shadow form. Not until they drink can they be whole, and only one now, only one whose shadow thin voice I must hear only he must drink. You have weighed me down with nothing Fear of you crushes out my breath. I do not know the direction home, and all you do is warn me of yet more evils that await.  I despair of seeing home.   I do not listen to your lying blood-stained lips for dead oracles only call others to join them.