Featured in our New Lyre Winter 2024 issue. All paid subscribers get instance access to all New Lyre online content and archives, along with full access to Age of Muses, where we explore the current state of twenty-first century culture, creativity and art. Individual copies can be purchased at anytime.
Wives of Nightfall
We are the
Wives of nightfall,
Maidens of the dark.
Our lips smooth as oil,
Feather-soft voices,
Speaking words of lust
Robed in garments of
Love.
Our prey who return
Night upon night
Seem somehow less human,
Their bodies shrinking,
Their eyes unseeing,
Clouded by storms of
Sin.
Some seek us as targets
For regret, failure, loneliness,
And their hands become fists,
Maces that free them briefly
From their desperate, empty
Lives.
Our words are recordings
That mean nothing—
We control volume and tone.
No one knows us,
All is hidden behind
Sequins and pearls,
The lace and showcase
Smile.
Then came a Man who knew me,
Though I had never seen him,
And in him was no darkness;
“Follow me,” softly he said
And I did.
And came to know him and the
Burning darkness that had
Engulfed me for so long
Fled from the presence of
His Shining.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The Chained Muse to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.