Saturday, November 23, 2013

Her Tale

None so perfect as she
Ever was, nor ever shall be.

Gilded with gold
Was every story she told
Of her sentence, every word
Had majestic wings like a bird.

Her emotions were no less
Not a tear would she suppress
And her thoughts too ran deep
Like staring down a cliff so steep.

She cried every day.
Yet not all in dismay.
Every moment she cherished,
With fond memories of those now perished.

That she must lead the future,
Was the spirit she would nurture.
And she deemed nothing too tall,
For even mountains could fall.

The strength of her mind was from experiences bold
But, truth be told, the girl could be hardly called old.
Resolute to the core, for no man ill will she bore.
She knew all sins were simply washed away by the shore.

Water all around her,
Chaos and disorder,
Were all that she faced
With every step that she placed.

The ice caps were melted
The islands had all folded.
But for ships that could be sailed
Few other lands had prevailed.

She sailed the way of the ole' Horner
With all the courage she could garner.
A thousands miles she would cross
Following the Great Albatross.

The Phoenix was the hope she sought
For rise again, she felt it ought.
Placed a loving hand upon her womb
'Membering she'd soon sail to her tomb.

Thunder, rain and lightening struck
Yet she knew that she wasn't out of luck
She smiled up at the Gods above
And laughed at their twisted sense of love.

Seconds to minutes, minutes to hours.
Hours to days and nights of showers.
Moons new and full, and seasons passed.
The wind blew 'against the mast.

At last she saw the hills of age.
The Himalayas, home of sage.
The sun came out to give them a glitter.
As birds she now saw sing and twitter.

The monks took her in, with greetings of peace.
They beckoned she rest now, in the shade of the trees.
Her sleep was too fleeting, and she woke up in pressure.
And ere the end of hour she delivered a beautiful treasure.

Long live the girl, one of not more than a dozen.
For she did survive, fate chose her for a reason.
Her mother's time run out, she wouldn't make it through.
Her last breath held a smile. To her goal, she had stayed true.



A twenty years later, she stared at the ocean.
Determined to survive, yet filled with strong emotion.
A man saw her crying, and came to hold her hand.
And she whispered in his ears, the tales of long forgotten land.

The man listens intently, moved by every word.
A glint in her eyes, as they watch a flying bird.

None so perfect as she
Ever was, nor ever shall be.

Gilded with gold
Was every story she told
Of her sentence, every word
Had majestic wings like a bird.

Her emotions were no less
Not a tear would she suppress
And her thoughts too ran deep
Like staring down a cliff so steep.

She cried every day.
Yet not all in dismay.
Every moment she cherished,
With fond memories of those now perished.