Cleopatra
Cleopatra
Each morning before the songbirds,
she sings until her throat bleeds crimson.
A melody to meet the cries of women before her,
their memories spilling like rivers down her cheeks.
Her siren eyes painted with kohl, had burned with hunger
for territory. She claimed kingdoms like a man.
She bent empires beneath her will.
She fought as men do.
But history, cruel and callous, dared not
let her name linger. Not even the Nile whispers her elegy.
"Join me, Mark Antony," she bellows each night
But the roots wrap around her lifeless body
tightening their grip, pulling her deeper into the earth.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
