born a sinner,
under crescent moons
and among chants of "talaq, talaq, talaq"
forced to hide behind a star studded veil to be preserved against blood thirsty eyes
glass bangles and silverware replaced the dolls in her hands and the fairyland of her dreams
led on a rose colored path, and into a gold painted cage marked marriage
greedy scars crafted by her lover marred the canvas of her body
only punctured fairy blue wings and dying embers of an electric soul remain
but she rises from the ashes,
sits on her velvet throne
and adorns the bejeweled crown
she reclaims the legacy of her goddess mothers,
durga and cleopatra
this time you don't get to see our strained faces,
this time you don't get to mock the dying fire of our eyes
because now,
we know our rights.
now we're armed with spears of knowledge.
we're the queens of our own kingdoms, unique in our reigns.
we were supposed to be treated like flowers, right?
but you threw us into the mud of your crimes
and we bloomed like lotuses,
reckless and vivacious.
we earned it all.              
                    - standing beside, not against