Lucita
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| Photo by Maliha Rao |
Standing on the edge,
swaying,
mind spinning,
waves crashing,
she could feel the rush.
The end is calling,
like a sweet siren,
like a lullaby;
a bloody tear rolls down her cheek,
she sobs,
her soul torn.
Mercy!
So many times, she shattered,
so many times, she mended herself,
piece by piece,
glued together with blood,
scarring the heart.
Heaven has forsaken her,
hell is afraid she will take over;
death will be a blessing,
after 10,000 years.
The sun rises,
setting her free;
she steps forward,
ablaze.
Who will catch me when I fall?
Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.
She wakes up,
trapped in reality,
a bloody tear rolls down her cheek.
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