Despair is a cruel mistress.
She requires total submission
And will only give tears in reward.
She will coldly stab us in the ribs
And laugh, just as coldly, as we bleed.
She'll pick holes in all our faults
And infect them with our complacency.
Her deviency exploits every fetish,
As she whips us with regret.
She scowls in envy at our plans
To fix ourselves with love
While stroking us provocatively
To fool us with her look
That sucks out all our resistance
To the pain she bestows upon us
As a gift for worship at her temple.
Aleister Crowley, English occultist, ceremonial magician, poet, painter, novelist and mountaineer, died on this day in 1947.
Day without Art, an annual event where museums and galleries organise programs to raise awareness for AIDS and remember people who have died, occurs today each year on World AIDS day.
Personally, I’m not feeling the mistress/she thing. Good points otherwise.
You are great with this. Nicely done!.💯
Very well said
Reblogged this on GrannyMoon’s Morning Feast.
Very well done
Evocative poem beautifully wrought. Enjoyed this.
Your words carry the emotional sharpness of pain .💦