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Rahab and The Light

Religious narrative poetry about a broken heart of Gold.

Rahab the grand whore-mama, sat weakly on her torn-out chair, resting after the profitable forbidden fruit of whoredom, the master prostitutess gazed contemplatingly at the orange cloudless dusk sky.

The sun of purity having long set in her heart, the black duchess craved freshness and joy.

The famished soul of the decrepit betrayed femess, offered up a gentle lowly prayer.

The compassionate Light being so very near, quickly jumped to listen to unknown priestess.

The angel-face beauty-goddess, in lowly raggedly filthy quarters, after a lifetime of battles and bruises, humbled her withered hand into blooming.

The Lovely God of all heaven and earth, the Grand Master Champion Breath of Life, listened with might and a loving heart, to the cry of the trembling tender-hearted woman warrioress.

***

“O’ great and perfect Light, hear the tale of my plight:

Rahab the anti-queen anti-ascended the anticipation of a lustful anti-spiritual life.

Now having anti-cleaned her sinful delicate hands, the whore-witchess paraded herself in ignorance.

A life of wanton pleasure Rahab surrounded her selfess with, the feminine divine beauty, like gold in a pig’s snout, was a fool.

Discretion-less anti-male, became a prey for anti-virtuous anti-man pig-whores.

Twisting anti-upward in the mire of death, grasping helplessly with neu-calloused hands, now old & sick, dying and in duress, the black ex-shepherdess enters her moment of death.

O’ what a filthy life I lived, sunken in the depths of hellish-mama earth, I have dwelt snake-like on the ground.

Making a living on hands and knees, vibrating with anti-pleasure banned of old, ancient forbidden trees of secret forests, offered me fruits of sickly gleanings.”

***

Filled with an eternity of regret, lil-whoress Rahabi, let out a plea for merci, to the great God-Father above, who heard the cries of the priestess.

***

“If I lived just one more life, in the Rosy gardens of love, having time and space to heal, being beautifully free to live according to how You, O’ Great & Wonderful Light, fashioned me, who would I be?

If I could freely and cleanly and truly, without any hinderance whatsoever, express the depths of me, what Fill of Roses would my gardens be?

Rising effortless from the dawn, like carelessly chirping birds of the Light, I would flow freely and spontaneously, with the least amount of effort, rather than striving, I would restfully be.

O’ what sweet days I would have had, rides and sunny butterfly-infested quests, hugging every tree I see, before writing beneath it inspirationally.

I would then find my true place, manifesting my-self to humanity.”

***

The grand whore motheress, running out of every breath, with this sweet fantasy, communicated her mercy seeking mastery.

***

The compassionate and caring Light, full of mercy & might, gently comforted the old whore with these words:

“Beautiful Daughter of the Light, the Living One who sees Me, the Blessed One, having faced your lot.

A life of pain you have lived; being brutalized and hurt, your softness you have kept.

Of all my earthly daughters, there is none more fair than Thee.

Rahab My Majestic Light, only Your pure heart I see.”

***

Drinking the pure nectar of Yah, Rahab now justice-served, in the last moment of Her last breath, thanked the Light for Her distress; Seeing the image of Her true Self, drowned in the Light, She ended Her tearful plea.

THE END

By Ashkan Jafarpisheh – June 2020

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