shards of light are trinkets of rarity,
there she lay, chained to the cold rock,
her wings wrapped around her coil,
battered and broken, feathers scattered.
Her golden hair ripped and ragged!
Her luminosity drowned by doubt,
Her silken muslin, charred with despair.
Her being draped with unparalleled gravitational pressure.
Her chiseled cheekbones
Her eyes.....oh her eyes...
They saw their souls and this is her punishment!
Chained to the rock of Judgement.
Her wrongs minor.
Her error....an error.
Her past totally forgotten!
..............and there she waits for authority to give her the final blow.
|Painting by Philip Waldron ©|