He tickled my feathers,
teased and caressed them;
fanned the beauty of my plumes
perfectly, until I was the perfect
way he wanted me to be
and then trampled me to the ground
How clearly I remembered his sound,
his thunderous roar
with the hunger of a lion,
his hunger for my peace,
his insatiable desire
to have complete control of me
But I fought back;
perhaps only in the end
when all of my feathers
were but a wilted lament
of what was once me
I fought silently,
no blood or tears
and certainly no fears
I simply walked away

~ Priya 3/21/15