Poems by

Wounds that won’t heal

a poem by Saundarya

It was a heavy handed helping,
He was sure;
One of many more to come,
Nevertheless, he was still adored

What was it like? To live? To breathe?
The world’s dreams chained off
And its allusions slowly put to sleep

Cuts adorned his skin,
Proof of the monsters inside
Governed by the ruthless
Barbarians outside

He called the eagles, of the coats and arms,
He called the merry that swore by swans
The falcons, too, arrived, to resuscitate the Queen
But the smoke and mirror play, was only his to keep

She rose from the auburn seafoam,
Regretfully impaired,
Her crown held the power of the Yin and Yang

For, what he evaded, she soon became,
Another monster that held the chains.