Gazed deep into your misery:

Something white, cold,

shining, longing to be


to be free.

It was never black, your dark;

Never the black of death despair,

Never too blinding, never,

as I see.


Crumbling you, held in me:

My abyss, a whirlpool cradle

carried your absence

more wearily, than

the presence of your trials,

the salt of your tears.


I couldn’t see, what was to be.


Never too strange to appear

strangers, to the ever-speculating

eye: in unison of mad hearts;

in a flight of minds, minds

wearing out in chains

of amplified awareness.


I can be you one day.

I’m in the becoming

of your evolution; never meant

to leave you alone with

your demons: now my demons too;

forces raised from graves

l locked eons ago; presuming

I, the warrior, the mother,

had lulled them into forever slumber.

But, they dug tunnels to you,

to manifest yet again, to me.


In this chapter though, there is no fright.


Embrace you and our demons, till

they all turn human, till their venom

loses potency, in the womb

of this Reverend Mother.



“I had told her not to bear,
A voodoo child, against her prayer;
But I can tell, she loved you well…
For she still bore you, and she climbed
Her very own stairway to Hell!”

“Dear witchdoctor, my dear Sire,
I say you lit your wisdom afire,
Beckon my demons, in full attire:
And you shall find, it is not I,
To cause her bear, what made her die.

My father, whose face I barely know,
Was her love, and made me in her, grow…
Till I grew so big, that I had to arrive,
No soul knowing then, she shan’t survive.”

“Of that, long before you, I had known,
Also of the devil, into which you’ve grown.
Summon your demons? Oh sure, I will!
And expose the ones, conspiring the kill.”

With that, the doctor stood and smiled,
And whispered a spell to the voodoo child!