When you are your own arch enemy

Jealousy

Of all the beauty in the ladies, appears as painted, sculpted with glazing edges,

She seems like an enamored being, of soft touch and feels, like a plumpy face, and deep-seated beauty,

Hairs have flown, blown, and grown in ways that could make a mermaid feel shy,

For even the mermaids know she can be queen, but allows the human feminine to grow.

But can the same can be said by two assuaged, well too do ladies? No matter what they feel, think,

Everyone competes for the masculine, of daddies and brothers loved effortless control.


Utopian Pride

And a mature, perceived with intellect, of the similar beings with same-sex organs,

Mothers and daughters, sisters, aunts, and mothers, working women oppress the maids,

Servants, and ilk matter, when the feminity urges you to burn why do you float?

And dip splashing your blood all over the nectar windows? like all male musk

Eating away flesh and the women supporting vile attempts of devouring the feminine, eating her, one organ at a time.

Of churning her insides between her thighs, transporting her to screens, of legal prostitution displayed for everyone to see,

It's the woman playing more pulling her intestines,
Quite similar to mothers that adjoin their baby daughter

With the placenta and umbilical cord, and have no remorse calling someone ‘slut’.

In far regions, they have eaten their babies, subsumed under the rumors, that their daughters,

Are sleeping with their friends' husbands. Is this a men’s game played in reverse?

From the deep rivers of life, a glistened meadow draws down and she enters,

Her serendipitous self had everything, light beaming on her face, her hair roots have let,

The soils germinate, providing nutrients to trees, shrubs, and herbs that support the herbivores alike.

In her shapeshifting end; tigers, leopards, and lions alike run and burn in the sun.

All over there is life and living entities, the environment was beaming with hope, a thriving ecosystem.


Death

She feeds the rhino babies from her own udder; clipped wings, and lets the beauty of serendipitous flair,

Subsume her, of gazelle babies sleeping in her lap with prancing sidewards and eye pupils raised,

They all enjoy mother’s warmth, her skin radiates with truth, devotion, and evocation of a strange belonging,

Animals are too kind they are capable to build bonds with humans and remain loyal to them until the meat gulper ones.

Do not get food, or are beaten to death, the feminine animals often attack anyone.

Try going near a bear when she is with her cubs, she will risk her life for her baby,

And as her gaze loftily with the witch behind the darkening lanes, she jumped into a dragon’s tail,

Of moving in its finitude thorns and scales, the witch was slayed, while the mother who was she herself immolated in desolation.

And a man ate all the ash to save himself in these desolate jungles, finding himself lost or Is he lost? Is he pretending to be lost?