On the ledge she does stand
Wind in her face; as the legend has had
Full of wonderful grace; yet, displaced

Her gown of pure gossamer
Billowing in the cliffs free’est of breezes
Arms extended on bend’ed knees’es

Begging to the gods to know; please!
She bows her head; in full respect
Not to startle or be spooked; seized, at best

Her spirit, stopping the suffering from seed
Knocked off of her bent knees by the breeze
Dusting off she gains composure w/ease

No longer need bleed for their wicked deeds
No one had asked them to multiply & breed
She is the aftermath of those despicable needs

She brings her burdens to be released
Her discarded worries 100% complete
The mistakes made but not on repeat

She raises her arms to the sky
Releasing all her hate-filled whys
Clasped her hands & starts to cry…….

Beauty she will no longer hide
A sensitive side she will nurture to thrive
Into her destiny she will now arrive…..

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