all ancient rows

The walls of the temple do resound and glow with each of the old songs of power we know. We're calling to all of the Goddesses Ten and asking them kindly to heal and to mend the schisms that plaque us and cause us to weep, that rob us of honor and long, blessed sleep. Their teachings provoke us to let go of grudges, to forgive all errors and missteps and fudges, to stay in the present, the here and the now, to clear from our memories all ancient rows. With them we can manage to keep our thoughts righteous, to speak only kind things to those who might fight us, to maintain our truthfulness and not to waver when tempted with rich and delectable flavors. Our bodies are made but for a short-term stay, our spirits just renting this weak, mortal clay, that's composed of star-dust and suns long burnt out, that's given to sicknesses – cancer and gout. In truth we're eternal, we shan't know an end, so lay down your arms and come hug us, dear friends, and share with us a peaceful moment or four, and praise with us patroness – matron or whore.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥