She is the two faced laughing jackal that haunts you in your dreams.
You see her everyday
Her mournful wailing deafens your senses
And her agony is out of this realm.
She bleeds from the cuts of her own claws
And she feeds on the pain like a famished lioness with her kill in the Kalahari
She hungers for change that is not here
She hungers for a place that is not near.
Look how she wears her scars with grace
And plunges her horns back into her heart like a dagger.
She bleeds slowly not to her death
She bleeds slowly to her survival
With an uplifted face and uplifted hands
She is the silent one you never see in a crowd.
She is the aura and peace you pray for
Calm and collected like the still waters of the Nile
She is strangeness in perfection
And your direction in a thunderstorm
You can taste the light she radiates
And yet…her eyes are ripples of far away
Her laughter feels like home and alone.
She is within your reach and never in your grip
She’s the white gazelle of the North.
You can’t put a finger to it can you?
She’s two opposites of everything
Her mystery is frightful and sickening
You see her wings
You see her halo….
Resting on her horns….
Who is she?