Rhiannon's lost hope.
Rhiannon abandoned herself,
west side of the foggy city.
She must have died a few times
and woke up as a newer person;
re-attempting each new life
to enjoy the feeling.
Then, when they all failed,
she prayed for a lover who would wait.
Then, she died a few more deaths,
indulging in the dreaming.
When the morning came,
she heard her mother preaching -
praying over her bruises,
praying for courage to leave him.
When silence did not suffice as an answer,
she was made to live out the saying
that men repeat with pride among friends -
"Women are wet dogs!
Wet dogs made for breeding!"
Rhiannon was afraid to leave,
to open her eyes;
Not from pleasure
but the lost desire to pursue her life.
Fearing most to see the sun,
to watch her frown at the woman she had become.
Well, lucky did she feel
when all the clouds had come out to hide
all tiny evidences of her firy frightful demise.
Disgusted was she in the shower she loved
and even more so
as water holds memories
and it started to flood.
Cold like the water was the hope
that love this time might be patient and kind.
Lost was the yearning
for the love, incubated, to grow,
to mature from care and affection,
Barren was the heart
who could not trust in the fruits of time.
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