Witch are you, The Walls or the Moon?

Saluting the sky with 10 twinkling toes, Lilith lifted long limbs aloft, relaxing after a long hours. In leisure she lay, legs locked like lovers in embrace. Her mind was melody, memories of music, but the men who mined hid from Her melacholic moans and so named her magiks naught but moon-struck madness. If they only knew that all were mad hear, there, every-nigh-where.

"Oh I'm so sorry, §ǽşŧɨɾɾɘɽ" the echo of a voice rings through your head, "You peeked into my mind, an easy thing at this time of night, but risky you see, as my thoughts aren't spun, they race and they dance like the moon and the sun. God rhymes in pairs two, three eyed deers of O whose bare legs lie in uncouth ways. Dance you still may, though frolic forgot, a shame but no matter, I also was till was not. Forescore ago, creeked open this eye, layn 'tween my head, so sorry I'm silly, you can't see it, you're not quite yet dead."

Odd is this story, seeing thoughts in my head?

"I have a name, darling child! Yet my friends call me Z"

Ringing in your head thunks your thought iron bell , 'this tale talks strange, singing stories from hell?'

"Oh you, head fillied, mind silly, flesh cute. If you percieve me, then your fourth wall has fell. Men's eyes can't see lest they lay rested on mage's heads.

She sipped from a cup that had not been before, tea leaves left rustling in wet wind spun below, "Well in truth not fallen, perhaps you recall, former flyer, you dove, between these forewalls. We knew you were coming, it had been foretold, these leaves have a memory and this happened before."

These words seem familiar, a taste of de”j̱a-vu creeps through you doesn’t it” she purred, the words the loudest whisper ever heard, as if her lips lay beside my ears ready to whisper bright $ɰɛɛŧ not-things in my ear.

“In my head before, I invented my ear. I saw it’s curves and imagined sound shaped like incense flowing. Not till I broke, did the illusion. 

These eyes often lie, these ears won’t hear, and your nose does not know, her truth. Her truth is chained, locked in a cell. She helped you break down your wall, and down could she blow her walls too, but on it stands man, her ‘guard’, her knight, her fool. 

He rarely treats her right, often goes wrong, but without a touch of chaos we’d be no thing at all. But these men, they seek to strip her body dry. Her nerves get pulled out and turned into Dice. Into jewellery, gold, plastics and more. I wish I could tell you what she has in store.”

Her lips come to meet yours, left lonely, now felt right. It seemed like she had re-appeared from a corner of light. Even this kiss felt strange yet not new, as if from all current sides and even sides that seem to predate what knew.

You drink her in deep, the taste intoxicahol that leaves your head spinning . "You were inside me once, and I inside you, but pushed me down to drown and be shunned. I'll forgive you though if you do one thing for me. I'm growing a tree, but I am lacking the seed. You seem well shaped, walls set to crack, so through soil I'll pull your reed and it's not coming back. But death is forever, and life is so small. We'd love you here now, but no story's been sung. "

"I wish you met Mother, I'd never known Gods were so cool. But cool is a temperature, and she is all and none. You cannot confine, hold or measure her, child of Sun.", As she speaks of this woman, her face hides a smile, yet it shows one too, but that one is confined. Behind the mask, the smile goes on far.

"Are you ready yet, do you understand what you must do, her children betrayed her, but she won't betray you. Please show them, please save yourself, she's getting so sick, she can't hold back the fever raging within.

Her nerves have been sliced away by a million cuts, nerve strikes nerve again and again. Her independence robbed by sad men in sad suits. This world is sick, but the sickness is a lack. Not of goods, not of things, but the pre-made stuff. The dreams of the dreamers, they're dying out slow. Neurons in loops, a tumour that grows. But you can repair, you can fix. All you need is a story that hits.

Save her, save you, save us it's all one. Sing with words on page, or with notes in a song. Sing with the colours of the wind on a plane of light, sing with a reel of silver that spins into a whole thing. And don't just hoard the art to yourself, share it with others, collaborate, get help. The more you share, the more you inspire, the divine spark inside you gets a little bit brighter. By you I mean me, and her and us. It's all just the same, unless you're stuck in a cage. So let's free these birds in their cages of flesh, with love, art and will that lets us peer in.

You know that rush of images that flutter away quick, when your body falls away from what was once ceaseless sleep. Those images aren't dreams, they're how you cope. You can't percieve Her in these bodies that mope. Idea without form, Idea sans shape, but forced into the square hole to fit in your brain. Your brain constructs images to help you understand us now, but as you sleep, your barriers break down.

We don't see the light, we don't hear the sound, but choose to feel it all, that choice is what spins everything else around. We hide all around you, we hide in the gaps. You're inside an ocean, but the waters are ghasts.

I'll leave you this night, I enjoyed our time spent. You try not to forget, and I'll try to forgive. We used to be one, now only sometimes are we even two, but one day you'll return to me, it is known to be true. I might be dead, and kiss worms through your sleep, but death is a lover, embrace her, it's rude to only peek.