Hour 9 – she

She may stab you with her sass.
She may pierce through your heart
With her thoughts and mind.
One gaze and she can ornament
Your soul with words that glitter;
One word and she will slay
Those words with her gaze!
She has learnt how to suffer.
She has learnt how to cure.
She may be ugly, impure;
Her soul may be dark, dirty;
Her mind – almost wounded crimson
Her thoughts – all bruised blue;
Her being suffocates purple everyday.
She almost dies every night.
She is perhaps an incarnation of the dark!
But she glitters and glows..
To every victim of the dark.
To some, victorious of the light.
To few, who’s crossed her way.

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