_by Micheal Ace_

The pot came, grumbling
The soul of her water, running around
That was when the night was mourning
And the dawn, coming alive
The women in white brought her in
Into the room where bodies are broken and stitched

Seconds after minutes, minutes after hour
Everywhere was soaked with blood
As she kept pushing the nation inside her
But the arms of the door was shut
Her lips were spelling pain
Her eyes said, ‘it’s going to rain’

The day broke, into the splashes of her tears
The sun rose, glittering on the sweat on her palm
The sky became her shadow, trembling in despair
She closed her eyes and woke to another night
There were spirits spitting spits
Those of men with tongues of priests

Her skin became a prison
Breath became a choking smoke
Life wore the weight of a burden
As death became her only hope
She was searching a way out of her head
When the night ended, a morning melts

The day strolled, past noon, then night
She found the spell to the magic of healing
A second silence, then an infant cry
Redemption wiped the stain of bleeding

For a woman to pave a new path for life
Her heart must beat for a very long night

Micheal Ace