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Woven
Beneath the fury of sun
Wades a wobbly nun
Stomping on thorns
Her soul burnt and torn
Scars on her skin
Carried wounds engraved
Trust, her sin
So were snakes she once craved
She sucked and spitted
Bouts of venom from her blood
Tainted by flood
Of emotions she once knitted
Silence crept loud
In the woods still stern
Moon upturns
Summoning weeping clouds
Tears unfolden
The woven maze
Outside the haze,
Lies a fern pretty golden
Threads, now vines
Adored her bruises
Illusion's penchant to divine's
Were flood sailed cruises
Time passed by,
Venom decays
Has been watching the sky
The fern now sways
Copyright ©
Wings Fly
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