Beauty in Ashes by Matasha Lee
Thoughts
a blazing
Smoke
Arising
from
the dark painted scars
Tears
a flowing
While
Beauty forms
from
the ashes that are left
No
need to wash away
what
cannot be seen.
The
manifestation of the unknown
Reveals
the scars she carry
As
she tries to understand
Her
birthing place.
How
did she get here?
When
clearly the ashes isn't soil.
They
have no richness to them
to
bring about life.
So,
how did she form?
How
did she come out of darkness into the marvelous light?
With
no sense of direction
She
walks with the stains of the ashes
trampled
under her feet.
Causing
her never to flee.
But
since she sees no darkness,
She
never becomes afraid.
For
she knows she cannot grow without the residue of the garden lingering upon her.
She
doesn't wash her feet.
She
keeps the stain
As
a reminder
that
her Beauty came from a strange place.
But
it brought out so much joy,
which
soon silence the pain.
Even
though the stain lingers on.
She
finds her resting place
in
knowing that beauty does form from ashes.
The
cheap, unwanted expense of nothing left
When
nothings left.
A
constant, continual reminder
of
what now is gone
And
only what can be created
from
the darkness that no longer hides.
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