Phoebus Artimus, Lady of the Hunt

Do you know me?

My name? The color of my breath?
Yet, you say, “you’re this,” or “you’re that,”
based on a label, whose spelling
is all you really know.

Have you heard the Dragon sing within your soul?

The Seraph burns within my spine
like lightening ripping across the sky to
refresh the world
with death,
  with life,
    with song,
      with light.

Do you know me?

Do you know … you?


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