To Nephthys

She is the Mother of Sorrows and the Mistress of Pain,
the barren Goddess who mourns the Joyful Bull unjustly slain.
She is clothed in ashes and her eyes are white as bone,
her hair is used to wrap the dead and her skin is pale as falling tears.
She comes to welcome the souls and guide them home,
to ease their suffering in those frightful moments
before they breathe their last.
Each body she holds reminds her of the one she lost,
and how she washed his flesh with her tears
and kissed those soft lips once more,
before he descended into the West, never to return.
She walks among the shadows,
hard to see unless your time is near,
though if you listen closely,
the whisper of her black wings you may just hear.