A Sonnet to the Stricken Woman

It is Darkness that shapes us, and fondly;

It chisels away at our weaknesses.

But, it is the Light that hugs our edges,

and together, they showcase our beauty.

It is They who cast visions to show us

the craftsmanship of our present Shapeless

and He signs his work with a bent Restless

that answers to nothing but His bloodlust.

Like the Moon, imperfect with Her craters,

and who spends most nights utterly alone,

save distant stars and flighty meteors,

She shines most brightly with a Sun dethroned.

You, too, shall reign over your blackened night

with enough You fueling you to shine.