A Far Off Cry! Poem by martin.j. schofield

A refuge sought sanctuary,
where she could end this miserable trek,
lay down her weary, beaten head,
Her bloated form protected from menacing claws;
Where she could start anew.
White on blue, a brightly illuminating view,
Where payments might exclude,
the viscious cycle, in lieu,
Of all she had given,
To the demented tormentors from where she was driven,
Where for food or survival -
she may not have to grovel all around,
the thick trunks of avarice,
Of power and steed -
malicious greed,
Where a farmer may try to grow from his seed,
a bountiful crop of humanity,
fed by the labor, not accrued,
Not once, not twice, ney thice -
did she exchange her bridal virtues,
Now and then she bled,
No chance for redemption, or partner to wed,
The battered pathway lay in tatters, from wanton lust,
Spurred on by mistrust,
When she asked for compassion-
to speak out loud, her voice,
the batons of rage, reigned down,
on Athena's crown,
How to admonish her foes?
Seek revenge for dismal woes,
although,
mightily clad in a mantle -
of Gods' sacrificial gown, she searched,
sought out a light, from gaves edge;
from a star, afar,
or even a pilgrims sacred candle,
But there she wept,
by the side of the desolate dirt track,
unkempt and far from her families,
luminious, cherished embrace,
like chaff swept away,
under the brooms brazen foray;
exhausted she slept,
yet still no place to call home,
No UN safety zone,
from which to emerge intact and alive,
Yet still she breathed.
Confusion timidly stalled it's rallying warhorse,
and instead lay down a comforting kiss,
with a reluctancy it dimmed it's frown -
upon her brow,
and with a graceful end,
Took it's final bow;
The compassionate face which beheld her grace,
a favoured look, pray tell,
some fortune 'friend' on her please bestow,
and lead her away,
To a place, where a gentle healing wind,
Over her tender heart, may blow.