Is.

Is.

She is Anima.

The illusion of your world.

The misleading of man.

Disguised as mother, lover, nurturer, friend.
Yet chaos to the mind and poison to the soul.

And, you, Little Lamb.
Lamb of God.

Always caught in the storm between the axis of the world and the illusion of the mind.

One is truth and freedom,
One a seemingly warm womb,
But it’s only goal be to consume thee for her empty pleasures till another lamb come along.

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