She,
She, the fire.
She, the flame,
Yet, at the cusp of darkness , she was the only one to take the blame.
She, the mother.
She, the creator,
The Knights of today , she sacrificed her soul to feed.
Yet, it is their swords that left her to helplessly bleed.
The crows watched the universe weep from a distance
As in this misogynistic hour,
She choosing herself, is everything but a matter of acceptance.
Unseen are the pillars of protection , the pioneers of faith
Out came the real face, off went the mask.
Wasn’t she your deity?
That, I humbly ask.
Feelings. 