She was untouched, untamed and free,
The colour of her spirit was pure unadulterated glee.
She had her eyes set on the stars and dreams that twinkled,
The colour of the darkest corners of her soul was kindled.
As she crossed the threshold of her parents' safe haven,
The colour of her apprehension was as though raven.
One fine day, the truth came to fore, it never was love,
The colour of her rude awakening was an obscure shove.
The brunt she bore broke her will and sheered her soul,
The colour of her screams was an earth-shattering hole.
They told her time would change it all, try and try until you fall,
The colour of her deserted being was an ungodly brawl.
When the wounds internal ran deeper than those outward,
The colour of her jagged existence was a plummet downward.
She could have it no more, she would lose herself to darkness,
The colour of her fears was a torn to the bones starkness.
She rose from the shackles like a wounded eagle,
The colour of her strength was a brilliant blue regal.
She fought and went on until liberation was found,
The colour of her victory was a freedom unbound.
Her nights were still plagued, her torment was a malady,
The colour of her bruise was an untellable agony.
With her resolve all solid she swore by her dreams,
The colour of her life would forevermore be pristine streams.
~~ ~~ ~~ ~~
Folks!
Hello hello!
Wondering what's up with me this time around? Well, I see women suffer day in and day out cause they decide holding on to a nonexistent hope of change is better than a scary future alone. I beg to differ! Nothing is worth your self-confidence, nothing is worth the pain. If there is no respect there is no use of a relationship.
Do not suffer for the stigma of society. Break free, your are stronger than you believe.
On that note, cheers my warriors!
Until Next Time,
Zoya!
YOU ARE READING
Alation
PoetryHighest Ranking in Poetry: #7 "The elegy of silence, The wailing of fate, The panache of death, The din of rage. Will quieten itself, Soon enough, someday."
