Some chant glory,as she walks
Striking sparks of felicity
Worships praises glorifies
Yet still not sure of what she is

Others whisper, mutter near her
Hoping that she hears
“It’s just luck’’ “no flair in her”
She tries to shut her pain

No one spots her bleeding scars
Her broken heart and faith
For she masks herself and hides her face
Standing on one crooked leg

Crying softly under blankets
Safe, away from judgement
Two repulsive, arrogant months
Yet the knife is by her bed

An angel sent from gods above
Ephemerality of life revealed to her
Learnt from vile and brutal hate
To rise up strong through dreary

She’s a moon among the stars
A diamond among the pebbles
Not merely of her glamour
Nor of her calm comely voice

For she wasn’t born a model
Neither was her journey smooth
The flaws and all the bleeding scars
Makes a person better in heart

© jane_doe