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Nile part II
| Dark Poetry #2 |
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Nile part II |
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Portia Member
since 2000-05-18
Posts 157 |
She reaches shore with a quiet scrape. The alabaster-white Temple glows in the pale moonlight. Attendants silently assist her crossing from Water to Earth and into Stone and Spirit. She glides inward, as if still on the reeds. There at the altar of Sekhmet kneels her right hand, her confidant. Goddess-in-training. "They come," the Priestess whispers, though her breath is calm. The other lowers her eyes, raises her body, stands. They move toward each other, stop. Palms together, foreheads touching the wind stills She is the mistress of the very flames-- they hold, do not dance in this hour of her need. Tension in a crackling bolt rises from their upturned fingers. "O Lioness, we beseech thee..." a shift in the air is felt "Protect thy children as we protect thy image..." soft noises on the breeze "Spare the innocents who follow only thy bidding..." men shouting, drawing nearer "O Sekhmet, Goddess of the roaring death--" A cry of "Blasphemers!" is heard as the soldiers, bearing weapons, begin their desecration. Still the women stand. The Goddess of sharp destruction enters into the small body of the Priestess a flash of light-- but not. a gust of wind-- but silence. She grips the hand of her dear, dear friend (O... Goddess) and the first soldier to touch her dies, his heart suddenly stilled. The wall of power builds. Her mouth drawn up in a snarl, the Priestess commands the men to hold and halt. Sekhmet abides here, and tolerates no abuse. The wind howls its approval. Flinging torch and spear aside a soldier bloodies her cheek-- and dies. Suddenly-- too swiftly-- O, Goddess! the vile captain wrenches them apart-- and dies. But the damage-- O, Sekhmet! is done. They are apart, and wicked men wield a sister, a friend, a beloved acolyte in triumph. Protest dying on her lips as they hold a spear just so, she relinquishes the Power. The new monarchy has won. The priestess and the acolyte, in their white robes, go. Defeated. New brides-to-be of Anubis. A voice older than time sighed O, soldiers, blasphemers of my love, you hold life-in-death in your arms. Everything is over.* |
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| © Copyright 2000 Portia - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Portia Member
since 2000-05-18
Posts 157 |
* note: Some of you may recognize the last lines. One of you will know them by heart... They are gothicmoth's. They fit so well, I hope you don't mind. |
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Wren Member
since 2000-07-05
Posts 312 |
I love this! Your poems are always so beautiful, and they have an almost mythical quality to them. This is great! |
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JP Senior Member
since 1999-05-25
Posts 1343Loomis, CA |
I'm really enjoying your work Portia, really. I noticed you became a Passions member on my birthday - what a gift for me!  Yesterday is ash, tomorrow is smoke; only today does the fire burn. JP "Everything is your own damn fault, if you are any good." E. Hemmingway |
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lotharingia Senior Member
since 2000-06-04
Posts 897saarbruecken, Germany |
What a poem, Portia. Simply stunning. I hope you will be posting poems again regularly now!  Lotharingia "For God's sake, he's a poet. Poets are meant to feel miserable. Otherwise, what the hell are they here for? What are they going to write about?" Tom Holland |
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