Broken-Hearted - Wailing Ladies
We are ladies-in-waiting and martyrs,
as tears are hardened like trails
of muddy barracks…
yet in the aggressive power- courts;
each detonating bullet hemorrhages
all veins of war- torn flesh ,
our stained faces pretending to play
and underplay the hurt of wounds within.
How long are those late twilights
as we anticipate a riddled uncertainty
within our homes' rotten gates and dim lamps
for the screeching angst to halt. cease:
The radio blasts hideous self-pity
into the stings, the bladder of evenings
when a combat fires deathly pellets
through broken hearts of our sons, husbands :
Will daytime become Aurora’s reward?
Maidens of hope, we wail and quaver
for men in camouflage… dear life, speak!
Are they lost. dead. or agile?…
pained, we remain mute ladies-in-waiting.
~*~
Contest of Broken Wings: Broken-Hearted Poems
Written 10/14/2017
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