Standing Alone

Diana has grown long in tooth and green
around her lily white edges. She hoards
then recycles the same old myths, pulled
straight from her tattered bag of archetypal
paraphernalia.

These days I find her less the muse and
more a burden, as she drags my heels
down low, low to the ground. Tonight I'm
going to sneak away in search of an unused
fairy-tale. And no stray, disembodied Goddess,
prowling around for the fresh blood of an
undiscovered story, is about to intimidate or
scare me off. I'll beat her at her own game as
I snatch the story first, straight from the rafters
of the old allegorical think-tank. Then I'll keep it
for myself.

Upon returning home, I'll face down boring
Diana, and boot the old crone OUT! I never
needed her tagging alongside me in the
first place. Then, finally I'll have the pleasure
of saying to her... GOOD RIDDANCE!