The Dragonfly: Poetry

There is no more
waiting,
life has taken
the reigns
of an existence
found lacking,
of a persistence
thus far strange

The raven's feather
is in her hand,
poised to strike
the blow
And where this story
tale will land,
no man yet
may know

It is an enigma,
the antithesis
of all she thought
to be true
To find oneself,
unhinge first
the layers held
with glue

Crack the walls,
peer into the dark,
see what you will see:
a figure
meditating beneath
a pecan tree

On her finger,
something small,
a relic from a dream:
a silver ring with
an onyx heart
and intuition's gleam

She's come full
circle now,
the storm clouds to pray;
the rain pays homage
to her path,
she did not stray

Awakened, she speaks
with resonance
in the tone;
The Dragonfly
emerges all at once
and flies towards home.

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