Prayer for the living goddess

Her weary eyes dropped in prayer, 

A prayer beyond all hope it didnt dare pass her lips 

The throws were watching 

The image she no longer could bear to portray

Held up by matchsticks of self preservation and unwitting expectations

All those peoples hopes and prayers laid out 

In front of her with burnt offerings a Homage to a false idol 

Maybe just maybe she could pick them up and divert them

To the place they are heard 

7 more hours and her holy duties would end

And she'd be free

no more pretending 

No more fear of execution 

She would finally be free to dote on her living water

To immerse herself in tge higher planes 

No more feigned lack of emotion 

Finaly free from the goddess crown

The sham of a once vennered swami,

a charlatan who took the village offerenings 

And offered nothing but excuses far beyond our realm of understanding 

She would start a new hope with the truth 

Where prayers sliped through lips with ease 

And the real warmth of hope sustains

From the source of the I AM.



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allets's picture

Fall From Status Syndrome

The "...once venerated swami..." the charletons, the false newsmakers for real, the charismatic...we need no goddesses, or gods, only comon sense most of the time. Good write - a stretching into the realm of perception. Bravo! - Stella