Ah, a Lady who is 22 years of age, with a killer heart personality, the one, the only...okay okay, I'm really just a woman who loves to write. blah blah. Either you like what you read, believe what you see, or something something. Who cares? want the biography of a sweethearted death lover? be my guest. There are some things worth knowing and somethings meant to keep. Knowledge is a golden role in this world, and everything in it is the solid realm of a holy being's vivid imagination. Now you keep to what you believe, and you love and hate what you wish, but we all go one direction, but the story and the outcome is always different. This is also the case for the Authors, in my belief, we all have a tale, a motif a poem, a line of phrase, some of us make it a living, some of us make it a hobby, but what makes us writers all different, is what we stream from our imagination into the language of reality.
I am not just Lady Black, I have another name too. I just like the mystique. ;)
My favorite color is green.
I love short stories and poetry.
I write songs, poetry, and well, i tried novels, but probably should stick to short stories...
I am working on my: Dark Circus Trilogy; first in the series: Wish.
I READ WHATEVER. but i love, love poetry.
I Love me some Allen Walker. ;) <3...
Send me stuff on:
Ja.....I'm a girly girl who likes ribbons, bows, weapons and skulls...
oh, and swallowtail butterflies!! <3
Hi all to reach me by email: firstname.lastname@example.org
My Square Lair
Hidden in my castle, is my lair
It is small room, I never share
A secret door, behind my chair
Opens to my private square
A cube of stone, completely bare
Six sides in all, naught but for air
Candle in hand; I sit and stare
At the walls, in my perfect square
Able to concentrate, fully aware
Not even a draft, making a flare
Escaping thoughts, I wait to snare
As I sit and think, in my square
If I am troubled when in there
I take a moment to prepare
By reciting a humble little prayer
Between God and me and square
I endeavor to be wise and fair
For my subjects, I really care
My goal, to ease their despair
Inspiration come; to my square
Osiris was squarely tricked
A beautiful cube Seth had picked.
For his brother it was a perfect fit
A party game turned assassin hit.
Sealed inside Osiris met his doom
The Nile and the box his watery tomb.
Isis distraught and full of woe
Vowed to the river she would go.
From her search she did not cower
Found her king amidst scented flower.
Worked as a maid, the box to earn
So with his corpse she could return.
Osiris’s return sent Seth in raging fits
So cut his brother into fourteen bits.
Into the Nile dismembered he was flung
For Isis once more a grizzly search had begun.
With thirteen parts recovered and mummified
By Isis, the phallus-less Osiris was immortalized.
Though ascended to heaven there was a twist
An event that lefts Seth more than a little bit miffed.
Queen Isis fell pregnant with Osiris’s son
Horus, a virgin birth by miraculous conception.
The throne was Horus’s in principle
Though battles with Seth were continual.
From cube to cross it’s comparable
Its planes laid flat a cross is visible.
Osiris died in his box, Jesus upon the cross
Ascending to heaven, their mortal coil they toss.
Horus and Jesus share an impossible feat
A virgin birth that Christianity repeats.
Six verses of six lines for Osiris’s cube
A mythological message to conclude.
Man has believed for as long as can be told
The good of this world heaven we will behold.
But for as long as we are toil on this earth
Our battles with ‘our Seths’ will have merit and worth.
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