Warrior Queen


Acid in her veins and ice in her glance

Lucifer himself cannot bare her wrath.

A crown of Ivy and the flute of Pan

Anoint her body with enticement and insanity.

Serpent-tongue and birdsong words;

Wars have been raged for less.


Enchantress and Banshee, she is both

For Death and Hecate dance at her command.

With the body of a vixen and a mind like Hera,

Zeus kneels and offers up Olympus.

Scents of peony and decay awaken her desire

And spout dreams of cliffs and battlefields.


Slain concubines and guardians alike,

Torches line the path to her tomb where

Thick air and fog slumber eternal.

Cleopatra alone could not compare,

Riches and adoration umatched to

The girl who would be a God.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

When I Was...

When I was Five, I was told boys 'teasing' me meant they liked me. When I Eight, I was told that the little boy pulling my hair and making crude comments about me meant that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. When I was Ten, I started wearing bras, making me a shiny, bright, new object of boy’s and men’s affection. At Twelve, I was told that being a daughter meant that I was supposed to act “lady-like”, to cross my legs, wear pretty clothes, and to “ALWAYS let the boys call you first”. When I was Fourteen, I was called bossy by my peers when the boys were called leaders. At Sixteen, I was worried more about how to cut my hair and which skirt looked nicer rather than the strength of my education. When I was Seventeen, I was more focused on the future I could build with my boyfriend and what our children would look like, rather than what I could build with my aspirations. At Eighteen, I am told to be a lady, but also to not be afraid to “rough it up” with the boys. I am told I sh...
Read more