The Lady of Shadows: Poetry

a solitary figure immobile
beneath the flint of street lights
and the too familiar sheen of rain

weeping a hundred thousand shards of pain,
a million echoes of cries unvoiced,
she'd once been considered normal

now anointed witch, awakened survivor
hearer of broken dreams and shattered hope
amid the conjurings of elemental fortitude

she stirs the internal red rivers
dark eyes blazing full like moons,
banshee cry wild in feral passions

Known only to a chosen few.

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