A poem about the gravity of Pacts, and the commitment to Self.

For better or worse
In sickness and health
I am on my own

I better not forget
The promises I have given
Or I will be reminded
In not so gentle ways
By the lord of this world
He holds the signet ring with my name on it
Carved out in ancient finish lines
There rests my eternal maiden name

Yet time and time
I latch onto false hope
And I seem to forget
That this is who I am
And that I am on my own

Anima Noira

Metaphysical Authoress. Harlot. Priestess. Demonatrix. Photo Model and Dangerous Writer. Keeping the Dark Arts alive is what I do, and I appreciate your support.

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