Within My Walls

Compassion –
[Middle English compassioun, from Late Latin compassi , compassi n-, from compassus, past participle of compat , to sympathize : Latin com-, com- + Latin pat , to suffer; see p (i)- in Indo-European Roots.]

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She toys with the other men while secretly desiring the one of her dreams. The other men are convinced they will have her and become fools to win her favor.

Their generosity and manners are ill conceived and shallow, and as a consequence have no affect on my lover.

But the Lion of Lust is a powerful creature and will overtime wear upon a weakened spirit. So I guard my love with kindness, an attentive heart and a loyalty built upon wisdom, compassion and V – the essence which binds all things together and assures that we are not consumed by the demons of lies, lust and life.

His Lover

I dance among the heavens watchmen, laying beside them where they rest - letting them enjoy the flavors and scents of my oils and garments, sharing with them a momentary glance of my breast, or a teasing second of my innocent swollen fruit I have guarded between my legs. These mighty men of war

Humbled by no one but the saints and elect who grant them life and privilege They see me undress behind the trees and gaze at my nakedness as I walk along the waters edge; wet and radiant from the new waters which flow through my land - dripping and glistening under the summer sun - glazed with oils - reflecting the glow of my suppressed desires - and casting flaming shadows against the walls and seas generated by the ember which lays exposed, dripping blazing droplets of passion on the rocks and earth under my feet

These puppets - these boys - wanting, tasting, ready to bludgeon to death their very own child or brother, for the one chance to taste the wetness between my legs and to feel the fullness of my love ripened breast.

They surrender to my power - my control - my hypnotic gaze - following me with their black eyes like ravenous wolves, as I timidly step against the walls and pillars of my garden;

They imagine themselves laying me on their beds, legs spread and ready for them to slide their swollen member deep within my protected walls; accepting them, feeling them as they violently but carefully pound their raging animal against my encaged core; allowing it to penetrate deeper and deeper within me; far, far far within the innermost room of my holy chamber

I see them deny them selves, pretending to be indifferent to my young body; my temple; my sacred resting place for their aged and weathered masses which see nothing but the silky universe and the translucent windows which lays like a veil over its moonless and starless night.

They can feel the sweet dew of my flower drip down their cheeks, into their gaping mouth, now locked in a permanent expression of blissful chaos, and down their chin and neck to their frenzy drenched chest which erupts again and again with each thrust of their hips and legs,

They think they have power over me; an innocent girl; a city so new and vulnerable that her walls are still wet, and that her foundation is still curing against the molten earth freshly spewing from still weaning volcano which gave it its life; so hot; and viscous; moist and enflamed from the force of their wild erect shovels.

No, it is I, Natures Mistress who commands the winds to stop and start, and the moon to rise and the sun to fall... It is by my word that the heavens part allowing the rains to come crashing down in a torrential mass of falling waters; it is by my wishes that the seasons change, and return its splendor each spring, and that the autumn leaves fall and spill on the ground, and lay wasted and spent there with the worms and bugs - as they to will - when I decide that their time on my earth is over.

These whimpering babes - these clowns - these manly men - Huh!, slobbering over themselves like animals; wanting; hoping; wishing that I will select them to be my night mate, but I harbor no desires for them nor their gods which lay like cowering dogs behind the shadows and highlights of a dying image.

I laugh at them behind their backs, and make faces at them while concealed behind my reverent display of false emotion and indifferent expression. But they are fools, and they stand there, hiding behind their masks; assuming power and strength come from Braun and physical might - but barely able to untie their silly perceptions and interpretations of TRUE power - that energy and potential strength that originates within the soul of woman

That spot deep within my wet ocean; harbor far from land or man - from the unstable rocks beneath their feet,The origin of life and the final resting place of death - that place desired by all men - kings and paupers - my holy place - secret and inaccessible garden - my sacred temple and locked room - my realm - trap - prison of fate - place where light itself fails to penetrate and breeches through its walls and takes it first breath - Our sea - the alpha and omega of all things good and bad - My wet place between my legs - my core - my womb - my sword..my life.... and exclusive Chamber within my walls.