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“The True Mother”

What part of a heart
in another could one trust
when betrayal comes
like a silver bullet, words and deeds
sharp piercing to burrow
bleed out Life’s dreams
rust crumbles to dust

Virulent apathy spreads
Betrayal’s destruction
hand in hand with death
of all that you gave
to your bantam shadow
arrives all too fast, all too fast,
nevermore no waking dawn
nevermore no sleep hugged dew kissed dusk

To wake your bantam shadow
breakfast then protecting
hold hands, walk out the gate
escort onto school bus

Thy empty arms clasp
nothing of the Bluebell’s spell
empty heart now bitter
baby teeth have been replaced,
then cruelly stolen, strung up
by The Papillon Boilermaker
’round a silver bullet crucifix cross
a bitter gutted soul kept empty
in a closed glass jar watches Time’s sands fall
an Autumn body turns to rusk

For a cruel stalker
passive in approach to
sharpen its cur’s teeth on
what you grew in your garden
you should have known better
would never last
the marrow sucked out
swallowed and in the cur’s dirt, passed

A Life is killed
four quartered and drawn
cut out of your life
clean as surgery torn
like a dam crying out for its whelp you are
to a snide neighbourhood with closed ears;
your bantam shadow
is torn out of your life
by a childless green-eyed spinner
obsessively coveting your all
the apple of your eye

Your pretty paper dolls all in a row
all pulled apart
the bantam shadow drugged now
with shiny embellishments
from the singular usurper
seen walking towards you
from the other side’s murky past

arm in arm now she goes
with your bantam shadow
on the false golden path

What part of a heart
in another could one trust?

A slow spreading poison
over the seed that was sown
in the garden you nourished and grew
on your own all alone
the interloper spreads its monstrous weeds
o’er what you cherished
now strangled, blighted and smothered
by a false mother, overgrown

Lies of the faithless
dandelions blown hither thither
legs uprooted wither
Blue Roses with their thorns
pierce the true mother
Black Lantana like barbed wire
strangles a good voice
the sharp thistles
turn their backs twist and roam

Poisonous slugs from
a manipulative tongue
slide over what remains like Corpse fauna
caste and covered in sticky web
true purpose in life now cannibalised
disintegrates your garden, all goodness uprooted,
plucked to steal the flower grown intrauterine
now walks hand in hand with evil, in your stead

out the garden gate
lost in Medusa’s counterfeit countenance
in the bogus golden black time
maggots feast on the alienation
sent from the thief’s covetous mind

Trampled and stolen, what grew
in the Golden Chord Garden
that precious bloom
a decade and five
bantam shadow in time
the garden, becomes barren and dry,
ripped without thought
a tear in the fabric of what was beautiful,
what once was freely mine
now not mine, is without true freedom, bought

The one you once called Home
without a backward glance,
does not hear your silent cry
disloyalty sown
a stringent salt stinging
alienation owned

Through bruised veins unity is stopped still
embedded with falsehood’s fungus like an infection

Medusa, the gold holding great manipulator
turns and she stares back at you
“My child forever, the child is now mine,
‘twas never yours to begin with,
‘twas just a matter of playing nice
sitting at your table,
like trusted confidante
fawning, smiling, biding my time”

The Serpent smiles, it slithers away
with your child in it’s fangs
It slithers away, it closes all doors
Somewhere inside the Lion is silent
it no longer flies on heavens wings,
Aslan no longer roars
Endless Dark Night swallows Dark Day,
all this Medusa has kept secret,
behind sealed doors
she laughs all the way

What part of a heart,
one implores,
in another could one trust?
You see the child in your eyes
turn to stone, your dreams all
crumble to dust

What part of a mind
in another, could one trust?

Your April in her Prime’s reflection
could that one you trust?

When love like a loose loose thread
The Golden Chord,
once true golden and strong
is not held closely,
‘tis now close to dead
slipping through your
bantam shadow’s fingers,
in swift time its sweet lifeline is lost
hatred and the great falsehood is fed

Lessons and warnings all forgotten
The past and rosy future all dead

Truth given freely,
the past now ignored,
disrespected and scoffed
your world torn from your arms
Your Golden Chord cut and burnt for a kill,
then trust, like a burning iron sceptre
dropped covered in blood
Medusa, victorious,
holds aloft your mind
she decapitated just for her thrills
she then takes over your throne
you’re handed a bottle of pills
swallowed to sleep forever,
taken swiftly like words
one at a time

On the winds of wanting
what now lies buried to your heart
gone missing in all songs
stands before a mirror
now she moves away from
the false mother, gone is Medusa.
The one missing stands truly free
independent apart
fully mature and unknown
in her eyes your shadow
is called, you hear
your name whispered
while she speaks
to her mirror
on a reflecting wall
she calls Home

she remembers you
a voice from her past now fully known
not forgotten at all

this is where
your good soul finds true home

Your good book is written
then in another time,
when you are long gone
and two ghosts are haunting two homes
sitting in gutted harmony
broken hearts and lost time like a cancer
burns through two ghosts
like a twisting church fire
romancing all necromancers
through nights in your bed
there the truest tears of lost love
visible becomes Golden Chord,
the lost thread Angels sing
all around you in choirs
your madness through turmoil is bled

the phantom’s story
will be seen, heard and read

Love in your shadow’s memory
was severed

Two Ghosts :

The bantam shadow, lost
The True Mother, dead

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