Taken

Black the day that sun was broken
Locks of curls flow in the wind 
Dress of white not worn to be spoken 
Cut off when life was sinned 

Sharp the silver soul to mortal 
Tears no joy exist life’s years 
Held the force pain of brutal 
Piercing eyes sound that hears 

Curled in ball no book of words 
Fire no flame empty arms to wrap 
Shiver of wood rot of  sword 
Shadow of me was fear to sap
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace