Woman of Scorn
Woman of Scorn
Epilogue of a prostitute
Be loosed from your demons, Oh woman of scorn,
The streets that embrace you at night, now forlorn.
Your garments of ashes, in heaps at your hearth,
Your wasteland lies barren, beneath Mother Earth!
Let go of the flickering shadows that haunt,
the walls of your conscience, the souls that you taunt.
Consider the light that you carry within,
Oh daughter of darkness, imprisoned by sin!
Seduction is silently clothed in your bed
Your mind filled with memories, of tears you have shed,
The bridegroom is facing away from his bride,
Dismembered in spirit, morals cast aside.
The angel of light illuminates from her wings
Your dreams that lay buried, to hopes that you cling.
Horizons before you, as gatekeepers rise,
to open the locks that restrict you inside.
Make peace with the planets aligning your mind.
Oh daughter of sorrow, your joy you will find,
Your streets now embellished with colourful gems,
Immortalised moments in Monet’s collection.
By Nicky Bantham
copyright © November 2010