Tamara Lakomy is an archaeologist, specializing in the occult practices of indigenous people, herself of Berber Amazigh and Slavic descent. She runs a foundation that operates in East Africa, specializing in the cultural preservation of indigenous tribes, women’s rights and education, she also advises foreign governments on policy. She’s a priestess in training having embraced the Cult of the Mother Goddess. She’s an advocate for sustainable solutions to troubled regions, and active in help solving major issues in regions needing development. She’s also an author, specifically in the Dark Fantasy Horror genre.
She’s also a great animal lover, having spent her childhood saving stray neglected animals in her native country.
Naked spirit as a silken silvery ribbon pale
Fluttering as a loose leaf unbound from its solitary tree
As a fragile tongue of flame, held to earth through an iron nail
Each day tearing a little more into frayed slivers free
Beneath the baleful demonic eyes it is scorched beyond relief
And stripped of its raiment it is violated with their gaze
Nowhere to shelter its only possession; its personal hidden grief
That through its bitter poison keeps its tiny light ablaze
As a crucified limb that is torn and cannot be again whole
It waits patiently for the hour when all things finally end
For the trumpets of salvation, its notes across the heavens roll
And the broken shards of the spirit’s brilliance to mend
But the reign of horror is deeper than knowledge’s reach
And the extent of the darkness is a seed that burgeoned well
Woven with the fabric of your secret code and the melody of your speech
As a vine leaning for support, bound to an inextricable spell
It has written letters with your blood and sung out the note
And with your screams it gathered guests for the feast over your flesh
It watched you dig with broken fingers, your life choked at your throat
Deeper into the fiendish prison, their infernal mesh
For you cannot flee the beast that fed from your broken light
Nor elude the precipice hollowed from your tears and wails
So cast yourself to die, as a meteor hurtling into rapid flight
Fanned into a vivid final exploding beam before it fails…
Transcendent Zero Press 