Meeting Her is meeting your true self.
She is the one they called Devil,
The one hidden beneath the dark,
Eternal waters.
But we float on the surface, waiting on illusionary things,
Imagined saviours, anything to make it better.
Those desires are hauntings,
She whispers,
A fog covering the eternal truth.
My Beloved, how long will you create figments out of the fog?
There is only me, you, this endless well within.
Forever replenished by the source of Love.
When will I, just you, be enough for me?
When will I see the fog keeps me wanting, chasing?
Anything to avoid sinking into the depth of me, You.
My Beloved, be brave enough to meet me in the deep,
For it is only in the black, the void
Again and again
We must die to be reborn.