Crossroads

Crossroads

Crossroads

A Hymn to Hekate:

I sit here at the place where three roads meet:
Vacant stare and trance induced frenzy,
Silent screams and endless wonder.
The black robed Lady arises:
I am pricked by the black thorn where 3 drops of blood blossom,
A red rose blooms;
Silent poetry is unheard.

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