There is a magic brewing underneath,
There is a miracle gestating in her breath,
For she does not see the beauty she has given birth,
All she sees are those eyes that slashed her breasts.
Her children run free in skies beyond here,
In my heart I hold her tears, drenched in fear, I see her, I lean towards her, I could be her.
In my dreams echo her true name,
In my waking moments of empty searching I find her with no face,
In the minor complaints of daily living I will never lose myself again.
For my heart pulsates alive,
Invites the light from stars and sunlit sky,
My hatred turns to ash as I become a man bowing at her feet and crying,
The scales of justice burn in the flames of time and all that is left to remind us of what has passed,
Is the stillness, silence & peace emanating from her eyes,
As the faceless woman says goodbye...one...last ...rhyme..
Her fated head bowed towards the corpse of time..
Like a tear drop forming in the corner of my eye,
Slowly passing down my face and meeting the muted melancholy of the ground beneath my weary feet,
My body held upon this swelling earth,
Beneath this diamond sky I cry one last time before I take my last...beautiful...in-breath,
I let go to the falling sands of time...
My skin sheds itself upon your unmade bed and my face smiles at the sunrays that made their way through the mountain rock that god once said would never move. Shadows turn to white fireworks and unexplored corners of your soul are touched by the pain of women with no home.
Copyright Anu Azrael 2016