Ius Primae Noctis

Shattered memory
Flotsam drifts in the mind
coming to shore in pieces
Fear rests in the marred hand
which rebuilds the ruin
Murdered innocence
in masquerade of love
enshrined in false truth
Mea culpa, mea culpa
Wind upon white sea
and wrath of gods
come to comfort thee
Deus vult
it is enough to be
food for Acheron
Led bleeding
from abyss to abyss
while angels sing
Deus nobis haec otia fecit
So ends the lesson


© W.R.R. 4/2/2003

About W.R.R.

Bipolar & survivor of incest/child sex abuse and adult male rape; bisexual, polyamorist, poet/writer/advocate & married father of four. View all posts by W.R.R.

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