Wherever I walk
one million fires
follow me.
[she is the butcher
and a weaver]
Whenever I talk
one million serpents
spill from me.
[she is the mother
and a deceiver]
My tongue is a dagger
and faithful servant,
delivering justice
to the soft throats
of holy men and traitors.
If you do not fear me
you do not fear the end,
if you cannot kill me
you cannot kill your shame.
[sacred is her wound,
for it redeems the light
with the blood of her womb.]
Nancy Botta ©2019
Rusted Honey 
Love it
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Goodness, this is superb.
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Powerful and mysterious poem. Well-penned,
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Sublime!
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Great. Please dm me, need some help
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Your poetry finds contrast between good (in ourselves) and evil (in the woman depicted as the witch). The mystery lies in the connection between the two.
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Potent poetry as expected!!
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excellent poem, I feel the same way myself.
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This is one of the best I’ve read on here. ❤
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Thank you for stopping by and the follow.
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This is excellent! Interesting and powerful. I especially love the ending. Nicely done!
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superb – don’t know why yet
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