Paroxysms of empathy are flying thick and fast with a click,
Procuring a soul of beauty; blinded by the menacingly caustic world,
She unflinchingly clutches the split-frame as a precarious stick,
Cloaked in strings of eluding Hope; a bulwark against Life’s wrath unfurled.
Her eyes behold danger; ‘tis cast with a steely acceptance,
Embittered, her mistrust and hatred are ailing her: the Observer.
The tidings thus far have mangled her to a state of incurable repentance,
But each time she tides over to her Destiny: the Preserver.
Curved shadows of Doubt punctuatingly cut across her being,
Ah, searing through her flesh, she’s buried in barren affliction,
Plagued by the neglect, reconciled and so inured to seeing,
She resigns to her penurious fate, regressing into tribulation.
Stardom is a curious mystery that she shuns as false,
Riding on the guiles and wiles of the world that are far from few,
She gallops and totters reining in her uninhibited waltz,
Wincing past storms of Disaster, fleetingly bidding them adieu.
Nature remains impartial to her, hushing up her dreams,
As she laboriously feeds off her courage, unburdening it in torrents,
To steer through ev’ry malady, in earth’s fury of schemes,
While she’s stricken by the deadly ‘Climate of Life’ that Malawi warrants.
Her left hand engulfs and shields her resolutely clasped right,
The rest of her body is vanish’d into oblivion; she’d ne’er grasp,
As each passing day she fights off death with an agonizing fright,