Lingering Lines

the woman

She is wonderfully made,
woven so diligently
with the intricate
fabric of grace.

Wrapped in her Creator's love,
she is shining so brightly,
majestic,
to everyone's delight.

In her stunning beauty
physically, and from within,
the envy of the wicked,
devious creature was
ignited and had risen.

It became literally
angry with rage, that
she has become a target
of its schemes and rampage.
Since time immemorial
in that garden of old
she was the first one
it intentionally told
about the fruit that was
so tempting to behold.

It plots and conspires
to have her become
different other than
what her Creator has planned.
He uses her pains, her angst
to spark emotions so ugly,
it stomps
on her own identity,
her unique ability
to give birth to new life
and to nurture skillfully.

"Oh, you are opressed,
they hurt you so bad.
You have to rebel
Be who you are not!
You need to be on top,
forget about your identity
and your foolish God!
You see, you can be
anything that you are not!
Just follow your lust,
your ego shall be your god!
Enjoy the world's
pleasures, crush all those
cruel men's hearts!
Be angry, be bitter,
be thirsty for revenge!
Forget about your
sweet nature, your
demure defense!"

And we, the unsuspecting,
were surprised to find
families broken,
children left behind.
Babies still unborn,
their bodies torn.
Their mothers in search
for elusive things
offering fleeting joys
and shallow flings.
They wallow in lies
the evil one supplied.

Until they bathe,
unconsciously in the
shower of their own desires.
They float, they boast
of insincerity, of deceit,
and of power in the mire.
But extreme loathing,
grudge, indignation,
self-harm, ambiguation
resentment and confusion,
are the outcomes of
these odious union
between the fiendish ones
and their minions.

Giving wounds to the ones
around, harming others
before they're found.
In their dark gratifications,
they can't see, they are blind.
No more decency,
no more self-respect.
Throw the dignity, it's useless.
She has become horrible,
yet they say she's beautiful!
She's now covered in paint
and plastics galore,
with pearls and glitters
which they all adore!
But what happened to the one?
The authentic "she"
is nowhere to be found.

They say she's not a woman,
but only someone who bleeds.
They now glorify her sorrow,
her true purpose, they mock.
You don't have to give birth,
life sucks.
You don't have to nurture,
you have the power to crush.

And the results are
devastating, an island
filled with grief.
Lost souls who are looking
for mothers who breathe,
who give life willingly,
with selfless love that flows
from her womb to her bossom,
and from the pit of her heart.
The likes of her that were
here before, a time forgotten,
some eons ago.
The ones willing to give it up,
to be able to care for those
whom she loves.
The ones that will not
walk away when it's tough.
The ones whose hearts
are strong, but not rough.
They're faithful and true,
sincere and kind.
The ones who are like lights
guiding their families
throughout their lives.

That's her who was wonderfully made, woven so diligently
with the intricate fabric of
her Divine maker's grace.

🍃~sweetmiracle97~🥀