In The Depths of My Pain

In the depths of my pain,

During the Dark Night of my Soul,

I Cry Out to You, O Father, Flame-Hair, Liminal One, God of Mischief


When my biological mother threatens to tear me down

You stand beside me, bright as fire, and hold out Your hand

“Get up, My Daughter, and Keep Fighting. I believe in you—do you believe in yourself?”

Battered, battle-scarred, and broken, I think of my boyfriend and my friends

And feel the wolf and lioness surge in my soul, an answer to Loki’s Fire.

“I do. I will try.”

“That’s all that I ask, Little One.”

Fenrir stands beside Him and my Father helps me up


Handing me a sword, Flame-Hair puts a strong, securing arm around my back

And His Son Fenrir Growls approvingly; it’s a rough yet gentle song that is oddly soothing.

“Keep fighting, Dad?”

Loki’s fathomless, ageless eyes glitter dangerously at the thought of my Mother,

Then turn warm and comforting as He takes in my bedraggled, tear-stained appearance.


The bathroom isn’t so cold and lonely anymore,

Flame-Hair’s presence has warmed it and I stand shakily on my own two feet, Grasping the elegantly carved sword.

“Keep fighting my Dear, and you’ll pass the Test.”

The thought of my boyfriend and my friends flares bright and strong, and

I remember what I am: Witch, Writer, Girlfriend, Sun-Cat, Lioness, Wolf, Jackal-Kid, and Loki’s Daughter.

The will to fight rises feebly amidst the sinking throes of depression, but it is there.

Loki smiles, His teeth sharp and feral. “Come, my Daughter. Fight, and ultimately win the day.”

The deep, shallow breaths that rack my chest do nothing to assuage the depression, But the heavy blade in my hand reminds me that I can keep fighting and achieve victory.

“I will fight.” I say, taking my Father’s hand and holding it strong and tight.

Loki gives another feral smile, which His Son Fenrir mimics.

Flame-Hair gives my hand a tight squeeze in support, while the Wolf

Besides us gives a low throaty growl as encouragement.


Together, Loki and Fenrir lead me out of the depression

That was dragging me down on the dark night of my soul

And towards the dancing light of balance once more.


About The She Wolf

Amanda: Belly dancer. Feminist. Writer. Geek. Book nerd. Pagan.
This entry was posted in Lokean, Paganism, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to In The Depths of My Pain

  1. psbey says:

    Reblogged this on Lokeans! .

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