A poem: The Rite

Her face aglow,
she performs her rite
gracefully, like the snow
in the silver lunar light;
deathly hair, startling eyes,
soul-enhancing
white night purity, necromancing-
nude porcelain skin,
beauty within
whispers of sin;
knowledge sought after
flirting with disaster
secrets held in astral shells
uttered in diffuse spells
the occult- her only master.

2 thoughts on “A poem: The Rite”

  2. This was a great read. I’m revitalizing a series of mine called “Voices behind the words” where I have more so conversations than interviews with fellow artists. At first it was with poets and writers in general, but I want to expand eventually to other artists who are multifaceted. Anyways I want to extend the offer to you to be my first guest as I bring back the series and hopefully this can springboard me into the other one. Thanks, TheRhymeRula

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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