Each tale is nailed to a sorry cross,
for would such sinners be a great loss?
She was one, a long time ago,
and her story is just as they go.
Those who had cried out had long gone mute,
for even they knew there could be no dispute.
She watched and she listened, day by day,
as those she was so much like were taken away.
She stayed quiet; stayed safe and sound,
but she knew that soon the truth would be found.
The clues she left, the stories she spun,
would all come unraveling, one by one.
Then, the day! Or so it seemed:
Her fate would be decided as the universe deemed.
The stars align, their lovers cross,
but the moment disappears like morning frost.
Wrong, wrong, this can’t be right!
Her brain screamed as she raced through the night.
No, no, it can’t be true!
But I must bid this life adieu.
The stars were my only refuge,
the only souls within that deluge.
Not a day goes by where I don’t think
of the chaos I caused while on the brink.
Into a cell, I was thrown.
Years have passed; I still atone.
Forgiven by the people I may be,
but the one who can’t forgive myself is me.
But I show up, I show out
To prove that without a doubt
Change can happen—inside first, then out.
By: Kirsten Nyakoe
Photo Credit: NewsMedical
