The Orphan and the Hag

Tears streamed down the beautiful woman’s face

leaving bright rosy cheeks left to waste.

Blood streaked lashes cut in her delicate back

tell a tale of brutal attacks.

The young woman bowed down surrounded by damp,

crumbling, slimy walls of the makeshift camp.

She stood before a hag most grotesque and vile.

Dark hair always wet, tangled. Wild.

Coiled with seaweed plastered to her dirty skin,

thin lips press a smile, nothing like a grin.

The sea hag watched the woman noting her pleas

dark eyes tumbled: the rage of the sea.

Slimy greyish scaled skin peels from her body

slurping wet and drooping sloppy.

Healing ooze spreads a numbness over her back

doing nothing for the tears that left tracks;

They stretch to encompass all those bleeding welts

signs of injustice yet to be dealt.

“What else do you see mother,

I fear I can no longer tell”.

“Your hands are clenched in anger, my dear,

we should wrap them just as well”.

To heal the young woman’s most incessant pain

She peels off another scale.

No wraps can change a love betrayed-

but a mothers wrath may very well.