Mirror mirror on the wall,
I speak to you today,
For my mind accompanies my heart,
In adding fuel to this internal brawl.
These screeches are like blades to my ears,
The lashes batter my throbbing head.
Her marred flesh echoes the screeches she hears,
Her consort's ragged hands speak for the lashes that urge her tears to shed.
Mirror mirror on the wall,
I vow to move forth,
Even if I have to crawl,
To show them that they're not the strongest of them all.
As this tale fades away,
Another story unveils,
Yet another lass immersed in the dark,
Converses with her pillow; unwishful of another day.
Pillow pillow on the bed,
I speak to you today,
For I'm a filthy mess,
Oh I'm a living dead.
The image of unfamiliar hands and mouth replaced with clothes haunts me,
Devastating is the memory of failed attempts to break free.
Pillow pillow on the bed,
Why are they so strong?
Where did I go at fault,
To deserve this bloodshed?
As this narrative continues to linger in her frail soul,
A million others, across the globe, unfold,
Some stand mighty with machetes embedded deep in their flesh,
Others can't evade the lucid picture which every night seems to refresh..
So my dear, I speak to you today,
As the moonlight fades away,
The Sun arouses indicating another bright day,
Another chance for you to let go of the fright,
For breath is only wasted if you choose to stay quite.
A/N:
The last line of the last stanza belongs to a worthy poet, Jon Lupin.
Until next time,
Sayonara!
YOU ARE READING
Symmetry
Poésie"There is Sun and storm in every blossoming. That is where the poetry lives" All rights reserved to @destellos_, 2016.
