Some of you met Seraphine

She’s a bit feisty. But it’s out of love and experience. On Seraphine Wolf’s Blog you’ll find dark spirituality, love, sex, hard truths, poetry, and many lessons through her path. But you still must walk your own.

It’s not a place for the faint at heart. It’s not a place for those who choose to stay closed to different spiritual beliefs. It’s not a place to attack anyone. 

Her blog is a place for healing, experimenting, and learning. Those with alternate beliefs are welcomed. 

In My Tree,

Owl

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Do I?

So today, 

I was living. You know, running errands, working, cooking, eating, and reading. But I stopped breathing…

Should I say it?

Is it worth it?

Freedom…

Will we die sooner than planned?

We still have our youth.

Paranoia

Love

Trust

Strength

Okay…

Can I do this…

Yes Owl you can…

I realized I feel a different type of freedom with my love that I hadn’t realized…

Am I prepared to lose it?

My love? I can not see us being… un coupled.

The answer will come.

I’m am excited 

I am happy

I feel this thrill rising up

Like a moth
In My Tree,

Owl

My Wolf

My wolf drinks whiskey

As I rub amber into his coat

His claws pierce my back

He watches my tongue lick his fur

Now look at this wild creature

He caught my majestic scent

I caught his heaviness

When he touched my within

Come here my consort

Your mate screams your name

If you do not feed me from yourself

Severed dolls will lay around me

Give me back that land under the moon

So I may shine light into your eyes

I’m searching through your windows

Curiosity.

Demise?


Poem by Keota Picou

Dead?

In the garden she walks

Thorns in her hands

From the plant she touched

Bottles of wine in her thoughts

Amber in her blood

Whiskey on her breath

Gazing at a brick wall

Wondering what is next

Her soul is sold

Knowing she shouldn’t have walked through that

Door

Room of lessons

He is her lesson

Lesson of less than

And she is taught

Just for one second

Everything changed for one ever

It changed to a never

He collected his score

If she died tomorrow

Would there be remorse?

But when you play by the score

You forget

It’s not a game

And when the chips fall down

No one sings those old sayings

When the casket takes its bow

But he was taught

Just the looks in their eyes

The air around their mouths

The gold paint that they carried

As they walked

Hit the buzzer to hit the button

Its time to clock in

Her turn her job

But she cant pay her rent

Broken doll

Severed head

Drop the curtains for her exit

Shes..

Poem by Keota Picou

Army

You are soldiers

But you are not fighting with 

We

You guard the land

But you choose not to protect 

We

You are truth tellers

But you rather make a lie of 

We

You are my brothers

But you are not my family
We are blood

We should be bond

We are love

We should be fond

We are strong

We can hold weight

We can choose

But why choose hate?
Poem: Keota Picou 

Exactly

How do I feel? Exactly like this. 

Such a rollercoaster.

Beyond jealousy.

More than half the time there is none of the sort.

I need to walk forward. 

He just might need to back off.

I’m growing tired of the fair tales and the “Keep the lie alive” stance.

I will not crush you.

I’m already crushed.

I feel a break away happening.

Like petals.

In My Tree,

Owl
Photo: instagram from our friend