He dragged himself like a sack of cement
He made himself the ridicule of onlookers.
The green glass of intoxication has been his haven for ages
It was his friend, his weapon, his woe
She, on the other hand, was the enemy, the victim
As urchins clustered like fishes in a sardine can, their eyes were wild with fear.
Fear of the resounding bursts of the gunpowder
Fears of the hunger that was to come
Fears of the intoxicated
She, the protector of her urchins, the Queen Esther of her time
Bares her back for the slashing
Stretched her robe for the taking
Her urchins are her pride, she would guard them with her last blood
She would shield them with her life
The intoxicated, once her love, now her loathing
She longs for rescue
Her silent screams are constantly rebuffed
When will the circle of life align for her?
She needs her Angel Michael!
Now! More than ever, she needs to scream triumphant through the tears of torture.
This story is submitted in response to sharing our arts-Poetry to painting.