The house empties without goodbye.
Doors stand open.
At the end of the hall, a single mirror remains.
A red petal rests at its base.
________________________________________________________________________________________
I sit alone; the walls stare,
their silence presses, hard to bear.
Dizzy, I see a raven outside,
I drift to sleep, where shadows hide.
.
A dark hallway, candle-lit rooms,
cages hold men and women's dooms.
.
Mirrors show reflections
and I see the one and only woman
who speaks to those in distress,
one warning yet.
.
"This is she," the ruler says,
"The daughter of a dead beat,
a seer, a messenger,
one who sees the haunted figure."
"What about my mother?" I ask.
The ruler laughs, ceiling creaks,
.
"The Succubus of Flowers," she speaks,
"Mirrors show her bloom, now blight,
Petals rotting where edges meet,
Admired, not loved, her only seat.
"She feeds on mourning, seeks control,
wants her sheep, but not a soul.
Remember: you're stronger than she,
accept God, and you will be free."
.
I see the sheep, quiet and weak,
They whine and beg
and wish that I free them from their prisoned estate.
.
I awaken at 11:11 PM,
The warning is vivid and true.
A red petal rests on the mirror,
I am shedding again—
.
Mother's friend cannot expect
That I will be locked behind her locket, again,
like the sheep that mind Looney's den.
.
This is my second chance,
God, do you hear me?
I am sorry.
.
"Get rid of your spiritual archery,
discard the tools
that gives you insight of doom."
.
This is how Jezebel reaches me,
there's not armor when I use apparatuses
that give the pathway between mother and me,
I want that door closed,
sealed tight
and never opened, day or night.