Let us go a ride into a life of season, clinging to a psalm of delight, sail upon a cloud of olive eyed spirit, overly the keys of a sighing night. There are tides that I will move within a desert, bring forth a bed summon there upon my thighs. Kisses when the sky falls, and begs for legion, I will bare your shoulders, a thousand wishes by my sight. Let a witch bend your spine, and daze your spirit, turn your fallow skin, on a Judean night, set a seal of oil upon your eyelids, thrust you ever gentle till, the seal is made tight. There are falling sons of seventy nations, a span of jealous lights of heavens far high. They would die bled dry on a daemons altar, watching morning rise to be with you tonight.
Bespoken by this summons of a Magen coven, essence of a psalm, that takes us through a life. Would I come to you where the sea is weeping, show me rings of light, while questions learn of why, under open sky, less it pass us by. Shoshanna is a rhyme that consumes reason, shifting in my craft, I cry out take my flight…and then she sees, I’m not a mighty witch, I’m only me.
For honest thought, for spirit that would bring a lady what he’s not, a sudden inspiration from some galaxy, a G-D like change that interacts with me, and purifies my magic, and I’m caught, and spins the coals of life into her fold, and she believes and touches me.
Blessed be, he that interacts, and brings her soul intact too me, a song, a thought of magic strong, between Shoshanna and me, and all the world does turn, for deficient light has ceased, a witch on his knees, and in his place of strength a psalm. What is me, when every thrilling spell is gone, and its two come to one, and it’s special like a private night song. Shoshanna’s Psalm. – 02.24.2015 – דניאל
Daniel Swearingen – Shoshanna’s Psalm