Sunday, December 16, 2012

The last task

A field blossoming with Posies, 
Enwrought with scarlet blood
She walked, her feet dragging
As she remembered all the slung mud

The black hood covering the scar
The crippling fear embalming the pain
The dark agony never to be erased
The shine of the dagger cleaned by rain

She was a simple village woman
Driven to her present dire strait
She could be any other woman
Someone without the repulsive fate

A simple village woman, captured
Traded and tormented, treated as a good
Sold in the market, used and abused
She never really enjoyed her womanhood

She endured it long, she endured each test
She endured the pain, the humiliation
Until the day she could endure no more
She freed her soul from the encapsulation

And so she was walking through the field
Unknown fears about the place, so new
The blood surrounding her, so red
When at the end, she saw what was due

She had a chance, to set things right
She had a chance to get what was hers
She just needed to go back one last time
And add to the field of blood tears

So, go back she did, back one more time
To give the dagger a chance to nourish
To be able to silence those who strangled her
Before she could truly and completely perish

The Rambler

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