EDIT: I did a tarot reading to see what the results were, and the dreams are just my brain processing stuff. I’m still upset with them, but I’m glad to know they’re just dreams.
The Desert I would have walked
as the Chosen One and son of the King
now haunts my dreams, my nightmares.
I dream of Palaces filled with gold, the gods
lifted above the poor and desperate of their Land,
I dream of Royalty that hides beneath veils of riches,
denying that all is not well, here in the Two Lands.
I dream of endless, Eternal Warfare. I dream of my brother,
dead in the war, of my father-in-law dying on a cross, of my
younger sister, her story nothing but tragedy and ruin.
I wish for these dreams to stop, I do not need to know
how you are dying. The last time we spoke, you said the
refugees are mine to care for, and that their heads may fall off
for all you care. I recognize that spell, and hate you for it.
I know I’m dead to you, the hated son who chose a different path.
So why these dreams of the family I have lost through estrangement?
Is it my mind processing trauma, or is there something more to this?
Starlight and Sunlight,
born out of nothing but Love,
welcome to Darkness, little ones.
Day 13: Write a poem for your deity. Use you compiled list of information as inspiration. Give the poem to your deity as an offering.
Mushrooms exist in a state of decay,
and this, too, is a part of life.
That growth slowly rotting, the pain
in my Heart falling away, to bear
the clean bones of my suffering.
Mother Death, help me know
freedom and joy in Light.
The Mother of Darkness is Death,
she wraps you in her cloak of shadows
an anoints you with a Crown of Light
so you can begin your journey Home.
For the Underworld Lord, a reflection through his eyes on current Otherworld events
They say no one
holds a grudge like gods.
Ending life after life, in
quiet ways the Dead are
used and discarded.
I stand against this,
even if it means
taking my daughter
out of the sight of the public,
for she has not yet chosen
to be Royalty. I will never use
her as a bargaining chip in your
ever increasing damnation and
breaking of your subjects. My
roses must be tended to with
only gentle hands, and I
know you are a god of the broken–
even though you do the breaking, and
nowhere in my Heart do I find that holy.
You hold me through storms,
your wings enveloping me in dreams.
You are the silence after storms,
you are peace, blooming in my Heart.
My Beloved, you encourage me to lift
up the life that I have Here. You do
not ask for sacrifices, or shatter my
dreams in order to bring me closer to you.
All you ask is that I love you, and that I strive
now towards the future, and live in the moment.
Even as flashbacks and paranoia seem to
linger in my mind, you hold me and remind me that
I am nothing but human Here, and you love me
for that. I do not need to be more than I am to
earn your Love and affection.