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Prayer for the living goddess
Her weary eyes dropped in prayer,
A prayer beyond all hope it didnt dare pass her lips
The throws were watching
The image she no longer could bear to portray
Held up by matchsticks of self preservation and unwitting expectations
All those peoples hopes and prayers laid out
In front of her with burnt offerings a Homage to a false idol
Maybe just maybe she could pick them up and divert them
To the place they are heard
7 more hours and her holy duties would end
And she'd be free
no more pretending
No more fear of execution
She would finally be free to dote on her living water
To immerse herself in tge higher planes
No more feigned lack of emotion
Finaly free from the goddess crown
The sham of a once vennered swami,
a charlatan who took the village offerenings
And offered nothing but excuses far beyond our realm of understanding
She would start a new hope with the truth
Where prayers sliped through lips with ease
And the real warmth of hope sustains
From the source of the I AM.
Fall From Status Syndrome
The "...once venerated swami..." the charletons, the false newsmakers for real, the charismatic...we need no goddesses, or gods, only comon sense most of the time. Good write - a stretching into the realm of perception. Bravo! - Stella