As the sweet pink flesh lifts into a smile
With eyes filled with gloomy determination
She soars through the air as if in exile
The bodies look up in awing admiration
She awakes.
Cries of a newborn fill the room
Shaking the walls, vibrating off thoughts
The muffled sounds start to consume
Each morsel of hope turning to knots
She follows.
The caring swoon of a melancholy song
Jolts the tears back to their dreary throne
Nestled in the arms; so supportive, so strong
A fallen angel falls asleep within a mother’s home
She grows.
Each passing year a wrinkle starts to form
Filled with worry, filled with dreadful doubt
That each forceful secret will start the storm
A mother waits in fear for her way out
She sees.
The little girl watches as the man beats
Wails shatter hearts; ripple through time
Little footsteps rush underneath sacred sheets
As the biting words blur into a menacing chime
She knows.
Little hands wipe away the fallen tears
Caressing something so beautifully broken
Arms envelope all the sorrowful fears
Of the silence pain that has now spoken
She flies.
Beautiful brother comes into the light
Breathing hope and wonder into the affected
She will protect him; with rosy cheeks so bright
Keep him from a life that is to be expected
She shields.
Each fight mother turns stronger
He cannot corrupt the soulful will
She must hold on a little bit longer
Protect her two hearts from the abusive spill
She endures.
Dreams now hide from her sight
All she wants is a chance for a new life
For her daughter, her son; she will fight
From the careful words that cut like a knife
She soars.
The time has come to stand strong
No more withstanding the heartbreak
Children watch a mother sing the song
The gleam in their eyes finally awake
She survives.
Words can no longer cut through flesh
Bruises will never sing the dreary tale
Doors fly open; heart starts off fresh
For the first time she lifts the dark veil
She is free.
As the sweet pink flesh lifts into a smile
Teary eyes look at her in admiration
For the room is extinguished of the hostile
Mother; stronger than words, stronger than a nation
About the Creator
Ashlyn Harper
A chaotic room of stories. My curiosities lead me in all types of directions, creating a chaotic writing pathway. I want this place to be for experimenting, improving my craft, and sharing new ideas with anyone willing to read them.
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