© M. Guerriere 3/2001

To A Sword

My Love, You are melted fire
screaming to My heart

Beckon Me
to remove Your veil
and reveal the beauty that kills

My hand to Your form
We become One as
waves of passion
devouring curving
the roaring black sea

Hidden then cresting
reaping Life
as We go forward
souls dashed like shells
against the crashing tide

On this barren plain We drink
a vineyard of vengeful fruit
Reaping sweet wine
of Death
Drench Me Lover
in Your crimson lust

Funeral pyres
censers of sacred sin
Your being
sacred athame
in this Holy Temple of War