Other / poetry
Cult of Veliona ( the black voodoo)
Warning... this poetry piece is written by the influence of dreams I am having for a week, it contains very disturbing images and could cause anxiety to some of my audience. I owe to put it out there to her who cries for justice and who ever is she I hope she finds blessings and piece. Explanation - Veliona ( White Lady)- Slavic/Baltic goddess of the honorable death, patroness of the warriors fallen for freedom, warden of the souls of the ancestors, head deity of the underworld and guardian of all the earth's riches. On a stroke of the midnight a black wraith stood in front of me, down to floor she curbed next to my bed, tears bled down her face and chest. In a dead of a night, a black conjure woman called my name, hitting the ground like a drum, with a scythe in her hand. Come on! Come up, come up Ma' Ma'am! Come up and do, do your thang. In the midnight a black woman, black as a night, reaching her hands at me, her eyes blindly whipping the dark. Is no news - she said - there is a bad, bad man in a distant land. Killing the beggars and tarnishing Lord's name. No news, there is a big Masa bossing the show, big greed, takes gains, goods, gold, while us others starve and fall. On a stroke of a clock, black woman clocking her soul, to a force unseen, unknown, to rise alive in flesh and bone; precious jewels, metals of the earth, fruits of the soil, wealth of her forefathers, hearth of her mother, laying down in front of my feet, all the riches. Calling blood, names of her children, cutting her veins, worst doom to own, in grave her body to rot, sacrifices. Lady Master, I know yo lisen', yo lisen' to all, just as yo walk silent among us, yo set yo ay' once upon an each spirit and ghoul. Pale Ladi' go and see! While yo white sleepin' watch how the sinful dirt yo glory in the gore. Yo crown of argent and ivory they put on the foul heads to sable like the filth mark of devil wrongful to do yo job. In a dead of a night, a black woman came, her face black as a tar, her black hands covered in black clay and mud, her black statue dressed in black sorrow from an ornate black hair down to her bare black feet, all over the ground spilt her blackness like a black mist made of black screams and black despair to my black throne it seethes. In a dead of a night a black woman called my name, hitting the ground like a drum, pounding it with my scynthe in her hand. COME ON! COME UP, COME UP MA' MA'AM! COME UP AND DO, DO YOUR THANG. Web | Discord
The dream of granted immortality, Nothing could create an afterlife! A way of living on depravity, Change the world and lead a daily life. Created by eternal disbelief. His soul and dreams become a gothic fiction, The dream of life and death without belief, The root of evil like a black magician. Dream about the life of new temptation. A world for granted immortality, Need a scientific explanation, Sing the song of old depravity. The children gathered on their own subconscious, To see a world of pain and disbelief, Betrayed and haunted by the doubting Thomas, The gates of heaven had a great belief. Simply offer me a voice unseen. I sing the songs of peace and fascination, An angel on the wings of Peter bien, Dream a scientific explanation. Depending on a true hallucination! To change the life of human consciousness, Wander through a world of inspiration, Feel protected by the doubting Thomas. Any sort of superhero fiction. A dream or haunted by the words unseen, Without a feeling like an old magician, Looking through the eyes of Peter bien. A hundred thousand years of fortune telling. About the dreams that never could awaken, Travel through a state of mind possessing, Face the world without an explanation. On my mind becomes a waking life, Surrounded by the light of horror fiction. A vision from an evil afterlife, Looking through the eyes of superstition. Salvation from an ancient revelation. Peace of mind and looking like a fairy, The world is haunted by a strange temptation, Without the fear of being ordinary.