Woman's Glory

Women of all time have held the balm to sooth the warrior’s wounds, when returning from battle, war-worn and wary. The fate of every soldier’s death of body or of psyche, lies in women’s hands. We bare for him what he cannot, easing his mind with faith and strength. Should a mending not be made, it is women who will wail and cry over the bones of now-gone love. What gift the Gods have laid upon women folk! Strength untold and subtle to the vision. A heart that sunlit or bleak can cast a spell of screeching or merriment. The bitterness that thunders in his eyes She sucks into her own soul To relieve his pain. With all this dark and deadly virus Running through her veins, She withdraws to tend her own lesions, within the quiet peace of mind, turning infection into power, and fever to insight.