The Sybil
THE SIBYL
If sometimes I have waited on your word,
Do not forget there is an empire
Out to the east, where freedom is muffled,
Where the autonomous cry, the great discovery
Of a soul to itself, is labelled treason;
Tied to the west, where freedom’s pennant
Is torn and soiled like a prostitute’s earnings.
Do not rebuke me, when I see well up
In your eyes, the free zone of my heart,
A ransom, perjured, sold in slavery
To patriarchy’s fomenting lies.
Forgive my cowardice, as I rise to speak
I am speaking on behalf of millions.
from IN MEMORY OF HER
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