"The Witches" A dream about my sisters, forever being the 3 of cups.

 

"The Witches"

 

    I sat right by her side, close enough to experience her terror first hand. Her wasted spirit was being pinned down by the most majestic one of the three. She was exploding in spurts of wrath as if to show us how wretched her existence truly was. Undeniably, a creature of doom.

She asked me desperately, "What do you want?" And in her rage to ask, she exploded her wickedness on me as if to make me answer her quicker. To my defense appeared my large book of stars, and the Amber on my finger that helped to hold the shield that successfully protected my small, meek body against the canopy of her destruction.

She asked again, "What do you want!?" 

I stuttered hopelessly until I blurted, "My mom and dad to make peace". 

"Something possible!", she snarled.

"That is possible", I stated faithfully.

"What else?" she asked.

"My career to take off", my soul had responded with all its present urge.

We had compassion for her, me and the beauty. She was made of pure strength and love and her body mimicked the foundation of a mare as she firmly straddled the disturbed one in place. Her toned flesh bared ancient and intricate black designs perfectly aligned down the curve of her bold spine. With a well oiled hand, I'd rub each one creating circles of heat that generated a grin on her face and pleasure in her eyes. I loved to love her, simply, as she made sure evil would not harm our blessed incarnations.

Our connection was astral and our purpose gleamed. She was my sister, my lover, my mother, and friend. They both were.

We finally set our intentful gaze on the atrocious one. Both of our psyches agreed on the power of love to deliver our foul kin into nothingness. With our right hands pressed on her heart, our voices joined. "I love you".... "I love you".... "I love you". And at the end of each phrase, her eyes drew further back into her head and her mouth let out a heavy sigh. We felt her gratitude as she surrendered her wild black aura to dissipation. Love.

 

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Sacrifice – The Hanged Man