The Woman They Know
Her smiles of valor encase her agony--
her fiery scars pound against her sanity
struggling in twisted ropes of silent screams.
A wounded Athena, she is a woman in chains
staring at her shattered reflections.
Her shades of red, they haven't seen--
tender shrieks buried under forced arms,
blurred visions of screaming tyranny.
A trampled magnolia, she is a woman in chains
rotting in her Carmen of morose ember.
Oh woman! You embrace scars with dignity,
ethereal flow of progeny in your hands,
your banished desires in shriveled ages
survive in spiral cobwebs of festered veins.
Her miserable existence in labyrinths--
she simmers courage in dried paranoia,
a streak of red blood, no longer she'd fear.
A goddess flickering amber lamps of hope
her essence flows through mankind.
Oh woman! Feel the celestial powers
preserved in your gracious bosom,
your afflicted pain nurtures patience
strong enough to bend heavenly tides.
A wounded Athena, a trampled magnolia
A rotting Carmen, a goddess she is..
The woman in chains pours forgiveness
filling oceans from azure exuberance,
her selfless heart of mellowed love
permeates Satan's abode with virtue.
The woman in chains wears sacrifice,
her gossamer veil embraces men's follies,
she carries the elixir of compassion,
ripples of hopes for scarred souls.
Oh woman! They oppress you in madness,
to your sanctity they bow in agitation,
the woman they know, the goddess they don't,
until you dust your timeless wings to fly again.
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