Martina Moriarty (15/04/1964 / Kerry)
Two Tribes Go To War
She was taken to a land where the soil begged for her compassionate tears, a row of tall trees had been carefully cut down to the stumps revealing a hidden magical house, built like no other.
It's walls were made of white soft canvas blowing softly in the summer breeze, she entered and spoke with the people hiding inside
they showed her around quietly as they whispered prayers in the curtained draped hallways of captured souls.
A wishing well stood with pride in replacement for the fire,
she took a sip of the ice cold water, as the roof swayed to the rapture of her thirsty lips.
She was suddenly fearful of something someone said, he always arrives without warning... you really have to hide? it was then she felt his dark grip surround the house of his presence.
She stood frozen, as he cast his shadow all around getting closer to the frantic, flapping, frenzied portal right in front of her.
She held her-breath-her-heart-as-well
but she could not close her eyes... she stood firmly on her fertile ground she knew his only desire was to use her fear to his unjust command, and mock her steady mind.
He enters...face to face the battle begins
she looked him straight in the eye, and saw her own shadow staring back at her!
She gasped for air under the canopy of silence
I think it's time you leave she said, you have no 'rite of passage' to go through here!
His look held hers...she raised her voice and with solid oath told him to get out and keep off...
He never spoke but she could hear the devils thinking.
he knew... she had found his only weakness
she saw a man behind the mask!
as he turned, and left the veil of time, defeated
a house appeared of bricks and mortar.
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