Now the voices call me out
and I fight them bychanting rythms in my head
words of water and blood
words of power
a sword that splits through my vision
i fight for it to clear my mind
to ward off all the evils
in the beginning my mind was a blank field
of plasma and organs and my mothers mind
her voice was my cradle
hear my voice my daughter
the man you came from will protect you
I will guide you
hear and receive
carry them inside you as I now carry you
do not take a protector without your protectors alliance
or your protection will be breached
do not take a rib holder unless he lets your God put him to sleep
in the visions of the dream, the creator will bend below and take you
and mold and fashion you
will you be molded?
will you be grafted?
Or will you throw yourself?
Then the man that comes will not need you
his chest will be full of ribs
you will be a delicacy he can afford
He will suck the juices from you
the cartilage and fat
and you will be without a protector
without a guide
Heed my words my daughter.
Head my voice.
A man once ribbed
will lose them if ribbed again
His heart is hollow
His smile destructive
The heart that could be is unprotected.
Your heart there in his chest too
will be unprotected.
Anyother woman can easily take his heart straight from his chest.
Once the Rib holder has been put to sleep
and you are molded
you will be taken to him.
Let yourself be molded
your God is fashioning you for Him.
So that when you are brought to him
he will say in pleasure
"Bone of my Bone!
Flesh of my flesh!"
and the protection will be automatic
it will be instinct.
Without the sleep
without the fashioning
you will be but a play thing.
He man appear
like the protector of all time
something that will give joy to your heart
He may appear
like a man among men
but his flesh hides the soul
and his ribs hide his heart.
Can you reach in and take it?
Is it free for anyone?
His flesh discuises
like the angel of death
his coat is white as heaven
his smile frosted to a sugery coat
his eyes lurr you in
his hands fold around wrists that take your breath.
His body speaks of power
his stride screams authority
every movement makes you believe
He folds his wings in with a grin.
But inside
he is a worm not a man.
Eating the apple inside out
His grin drips of saliva
his teeth sinked in blood.
Where he slinks he slides
and inside his house are the burried bones of his mother.
Under the wooden floors the bodies mold.
He is inches tall
his ego a mansion
each room has fake walls
fake jewls fill his pockets
His song is a stolen song
passed from fallen angel to fallen angel.
Thus he picks his victims -
those innocent never touched
those wrought over by the last black demon clothed in white
Do not trust them my daughter
do not listen to their feral calls
their bark is hidden
their bite is not affection
So little fetus
daughter of my tears
hear me now and wait
be still and wait
Wait for the Rib Master
who will craft you a protector
He takes a rib and creates something new
Then he returns it
and demands that the man care for it
His own flesh
His own bone
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