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Patricia O'M


Suffering of the Maiden


There she sat by the side of the waters
Her beautiful braids undone, her proud look gone
Her beautiful garments replaced by sackcloth in tatters
Ashes and dirt strewn in her kinky hair
Her tears mingled with sweat and ash
She wailed to the moon
Who heard her?
She bowed her head in shame; ravished and plundered
Wolves clothed as lovers
Had uncovered her skirts and
Taken her dignity – with force
Inconsolable, defiled; there she sat

The sun set and rose and set and rose
And every new day strengthened her
She decided to rise; the fear, the terror, the shame
It was time to set them aside and rise above them
So she took from the waters and washed her face
But again they came …

Now she sits again by the waters; bloodied and solemn
Torn apart, ravished yet again
These tears more bitter than the first
And still no one listens
Almost afraid to cry out now for those who hear her
Only aggravate her pain for exploitation
For this time, her plunderers are of her own loins
Her sons; a parody of the daughters of Lot
Uncover her skirts and take turns to destroy her dignity
Destroy her chances of ever holding her head up high

Submitted: Sunday, March 31, 2013
Edited: Sunday, March 31, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

It is often said that colonialism ravished many parts of Africa but the bigger shame is that Africa is ravishing itself in these days with leaders who have no respect for human rights and no moral principles. This was written in honour of the maiden that was Africa...

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