She’s a jewel at conception
Bound to share in the pangs of deliverance.
Her preciousness
is like the sands of time.
At birth she was named Light
Her beautiful heart meant to illuminate lives
Like the flames of a fire
She was meant to burn and spread.
She is peace in the storm
So lovely, so temperate
In her touch lingered perfection,
But she was forced into obscurity:
Where is she where she is meant to be?
Drowned in an ocean of abject darkness
Covered in dusts of hatred and subjection
Her very fire burning her in the eyes.
The world cries for her
But she’s in the dregs
With the pigs looking for food among mud
Awaiting her stars in the depth of dirt.
She’s camouflaged with mud
Her purity withdrawn from the earth
Her true face is hidden,
Like a bridesmaid that was never unveiled.
The prophecy:
Like beauty out of ashes
She was to emerge
She was to fill the gap
The prophecy is now;
But she’s too stained now to fulfill the prophecy.
About the Author
