Osiris, see this black?
I mourn today, sick to death of seeing your light
hijacked by slack jawed lackies. Pagan gods dance
around you, chanting their Satanic creed.
Scheming and screaming, they have chained you
to their loveless greed, whored you out
to a graceless, mortal thing. Impostors,
pretenders to your empty throne
(they can’t climb into it even though they try)
they see me, and never see me at all.
Sneering, they ogle my ass and thighs
ignoring the lightning in my eyes.
I let them. Sleight of hand, or sleight of breast.
See my body. Don’t see the rest. Fools
too dumb to know I’ve come to rescue you.
Only the holy know the holy when they meet it.
(Dear zombies, clumsy, artless things,
lust for these lips, blind to the fluttering of
my falcon wings. I bide my time, watching you
watch Him. You think He is a thing.
When He smiles, all you see is teeth.
The sacred light in His eyes flashed.
You shrieked, “Let’s bottle it! Make some cash!”
How dare you try to own His might?
Do you not know He is the rising sun,
The One born to bring the dawn?
My Holy Mother Nut is inconsolable,
weeping for her stolen son.)
Osiris, stand up. Fight.
You have more might in your tiny toe
than they have in all of their doughy flesh.
When you rise, the universe will conspire
to bring you all that you desire and more.
But first you must let me save you. Heaven
rewards the brave. Take my hand.
I sold seven strands of my fiery hair to buy
two one-way tickets to The Promised Land.
Climb out of the gold plated grave they dug for you.
My love, let me love you.
Your splendid flesh was never meant
to be a mausoleum for blanched bones.
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