Iniquity (After a Mother’s death)

 

 

© Abby Ryan

 

Way back in the golden ages you were my sister.

The little, fun girl who clung to me in danger,  

Even when I knew

No better than you

How to fight the enemies that sought us for stew.

 

Sheva, that was what everyone called you,

My sister, the young princess of Èmècá

 

Now, Iniquity,

You are the beauty of darkness

Your skin glows like a ghost in the night

Your teeth simmer in the light

As your malicious smiles curls your lips tight

 

Whatever happened to the little girl I use to know

 

Ahh, I believe I know

And you know I know

She died like the rest of us so few years ago.

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