It's always the darkest right before the Dawn.
Dawn
Each day is a new mask
A smile to cascade
A new face to parade
Another show to masquerade.
With torrents of grief running down
Her salt furrowed cheeks
She rises from the dark
From among the shadows
That cohabit the dungeon
She resides in.
"Smile "
She reminds herself
As the back of her fist wipes away
What is left of her breakdown.
She looks around
At all the disappointed expressions
Chastising her
Mocking her as she scrounges on the concrete
Trying to gather all that she lost
But she had fallen to her own demise
She had tumbled
And crumpled
Into infinite pieces
Like fallen houses
At the wake of the earthquake
As another attempt precipitates
Into another failure
She loses count of all that she had already lost
And soon will lose again
A broken reflection
In the broken shards of glass on the ground
A distorted image with
Smudged kohl streaming down her pallid cheeks
She looks on
As a tiny flicker of light
Illuminates a certain, infinitesimal hope
She walks down the road
That just might lead to her emancipation
And then
She plunges into the rings of darkness
Draped in darkness
Is her tormented soul
Thoughts wander into her mind
As she balances the ideas
Whether she should wear a rope necklace
Or allow the blade to cloak her wrists in red bracelets
"Life is a bitch"
She screams
"I should put an end to this suffering"
Each day is a new mask
A smile to cascade
A new face to parade
Another show to masquerade.
A fresh facade to pull over
The scar that evicted the beauty she once had
She rises again from the dark
With a renewed thought
"Defeat comes to the share of the weak-hearted
But I'm a warrior with scars to prove as my medals"
The shadows accompany her dying soul
She languidly stretches her feet across the concrete
She persists with all the scars that run down her face
With all the cracks and fissures that slash her back
She treads on
The path laden with broken glasses
As they pierce the delicate skin of her soles
With blood gushing out her fresh wounds
She reminds herself
That
Each day is a new mask
A smile to cascade
A new face to parade
Another show to masquerade.
"I won't let the bitch be the victor
For the tables have now turned"
Revenge has never looked this sweet
She has a replenished outlook
For life can push her repeatedly
But she'll continue rising from the abyss life created for her
In her search to create her own light
To lead her
And other lost souls through the rubbles
Through the dark
Through the labyrinthine
To the break of dawn
To light.
YOU ARE READING
She
PoetryA collection of poems about 'She'. About the women and girls you and I have seen, have heard and have known.
