I was born of man's fear of the darkness.
A sacrifice to the night's black stillness.
After abducting me from a beehive.
Men rendered me and then boiled me alive.
My natural juices attract thin strings.
So they spun me until I sprouted wings.
I flew high attached to some coarse hemp dope.
I was inside out impaled on a rope.
When I cooled down I could sense I was trapped.
Myself and others were gathered and wrapped.
They squeezed dozens of us into one box.
We heard doors bolted, keys turning in locks.
We lay together unmoved for a week.
Then one day we heard men chanting in Greek.
They opened our box and carried us out.
We were in a cathedral tall and stout.
A bishop sang over us and blessed us.
He carried us high and made such a fuss.
Our freedom was coming I just knew it.
The string inside my body had a fit.
Then a flame appeared just above my head.
It ignited the string orange and red.
As I was waxing, truth flowed over me.
My burning sacrifice had set me free.
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