little bat winged child
singing young-life songs

--

seeking

collective shards, of elder's essence splintered,
i wonder do you recognise your maker?

through blood with blood mixed primal forces made me,
only filtered, weak divinity shall guide me.

little fae-child, flutter-by wings of beauty i am,
mother night in my eyes and arms and heart.

such complex origins we know not who is owed our loyalty,
for in the darkness Who has claimed my soul?

One will take it and care, but only should i awaken
to find my mother or father Elder born.

till i should find my line i shall know but mortal parentage,
and seek the knowledge of my divine family.

for comfort is knowledge is knowledge is comforting embrace.

--

splintering

strange world where love is fleeting, nothing sacred,
always taking from almost empty pockets.
i grow and learn and see that nothing is forever
when purest most important focus falls apart
i am made of two, one and one who now make four
others unwanted, i cannot dissuade one and one

there is a time for shrouds and a time for clarity.
we live in a world where few loves stay forever.
my birth, the most important moment of my life,
undermined by the fickle failing fractured nature of
love, mother father gone and now two more
i did not ask for them. why is everything like this.

--

seated

i, maestro seated
little known but much believed
overcome with hope

wanting only for
acknowledgement of his pride
my uncle-mentor

mahalla guide me
the hallowed halls i walk now
demand my success

--

singing

our voices raised in chaos neatly set
the tumult of our pulses drawing close
the strings shall guide us through each life, but yet,
our history we must ourselves compose:
no songs or stories without recording,
Mahalla's life to paint upon our hearts...
(the knowledge of her life self-rewarding)
...like mortal lives our memories depart
and we must save the strings from final loss
rewriting every word and and rhyme and fact
till it burrows deep as the fiercest moss,
as harbingers of song we make this pact:
though time has lost the story of Her truth,
we rewrite history to record proof.