the aura of legitimacy

Fate’s pale artifice, glimmering
with artistry; I am submerged
in the subterranean roots
of a deciduous ethereality.

It stings; pain transcending,
filling the mouth with light,
revenging itself on the mind,
who saw the transmigration of
good into the obscene.

Mentally, this place is impressed,
to be cared for as the bird
flutters her wings, springs of
water falling from her eyes,
gathering in the cool, dusky pool
beneath her claws.