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Red Ocher

Ochre, ochre thou red of earth, thou blood of men of goddess birth

Ochre, ochre red of life, crimson stain, thou curse of wife

Red of peoples, stolen lands, ancient priestess, slaughtered lamb

To earth return now, free from strife, free from pain and lovers vice

Now paint her cheeks in streaks of red, dot her brow, encircle breasts

Sallow fingers dip pots of red, color lips of tainted death

Mix tears of mourning, wounds from hunt, virgin stains, slaves last remnants

Draw lines across her barren front, bloodless womb, dark furry mount

Trace lines of truth, with symbols speak, of life, of her, then trace to feet

Now place her down knees tied to chest, head to east, hands to please

Now covered all with Godless art, do sprinkle all the Ochre left

The breath of life, the life of breath, in future days her soul to wake

Ancient peoples, aged prides, in pagan mass and rite do writhe

In midnight dark firelights burn dim, in kneeling reverence bow to him

This God of dark, of lusts delight, now slits her throat, erect and tight

To spew as one on each and then, each other as they first began

To mix their seed with blood of men, to drink now drink, your bodies smear

I’ve seen those God’s upon their thrones, olden devils, wicked gnomes

They’re laughing now, they always know, when one more soul

Becomes their own

© 2011, Tim Wilkinson & Wayne Wilks