The Man In The Moon

Gerald del Campo


She comes in like the Darkness
On a cold winter night;
A child, pale, the consort of the Angel of Death
With lips as red as the finest rubies
And as crimson as the blood which runs through my veins.

Eyes, haunting; dark and mysterious
As the bottomless depths of the ocean.
Double faced woman in mourning and in laughter
Torn between the magick and the tragic
Essence of the realm of desire.

Uncharted, unexplored; a virgin
From the joys and pleasures of this world,
Oh, fruit not tasted, passion wasted
From fear of the wrath
Of some loveless god.

Inspired by her Beauty I lie
Awaiting the last beat of my heart;
I sink into the blood red lips
In hopes that soon, as I expire, as we embrace
We may enter the world christened Forever.

Our blood, mingled, spilled upon the earth
Like seed scattered in passion
Dispersed on some impossible soil.
With one scream for pain and one for pleasure
Two roses emerged to face the Rising Sun.


Fast Forward
2019-05-28
Kindly Pagans, White Supremacists Hold Dueling Gatherings In Southern State Park


Keep the Faith
2019-05-27
Young black women are leaving Christianity and embracing African witchcraft

CBN News
2019-05-27
Atlanta Church Hires Psychic Medium to Minister to Congregation

The Week
2019-05-25
The princess of Norway and her shaman lover

Religion News Service
2019-05-24
Getting in on - and tossed out of - the Satanist Temple joke - Religion News Service

More Articles

Quote of the moment:
Anything I do is purely coincidental.

This site has received hits since Aug 4, 2000

COPYLEFT:
The entire content of all public pages in The Pagan Library (graphics, text and HTML) are free information, released under the terms of the GPL. All copyrighted items mentioned are the property of their respective owners, and no form of ownership or endorsement is implied.

Last modified: August 19 2018 14:54:47