quill (pegasus)

this temple
has become a brothel
under my watch
this body
this flesh
my womb
my soul
riddled with poison quills
and scorpion stings
and the stench of murders
i have committed
on these very grounds
upon this altar
behind the innermost door

i turned my eyes away
in fear
in loathing
in shame
and let marauders
come and go
lay fingers on the relics
drink freely from my sacred cup
leaving rubble in their wake

and all the while i smiled
preferring the clamour and din
to the terror
of silence within these walls
and the judgment that rushes in
to fill the empty space
indeed i have become
more whorehouse
than holy place

but today brings my redemption
a gentle rain of grace
has come to these ruins
and washed away the blood
and the scent of desecration
from a single broken stone
and in its shining surface
i caught my reflection
and was reminded
this temple
is my temple
is a temple
never less

and so begins my restoration
stone by stone
innocence returns
purity returns
virginity returns
devotion returns
and evermore
this paradise
will remain a place of worship
and i will always be
the wide-eyed girl
the anxious boy
the giddy couple
sneaking away under the summer moonlight
for the first time