Poem by Natalia Govsha

SHE

Wounded
She-wolf
in the night fled.
Didn’t whine,
didn’t yelp.
Silently fled.

Fell.
Lying.
Without a sound
moaned.
Got up,
and
again
fled
in the dark.

Less moon.
Escaped
from the Angel-hunter,
her.
He didn’t chase,
just was.

Well aimed.
Wanted revenge –
the chain
was changed.
Burned
bridges back,
didn’t give
a chance.
Mixed
Eden
and
Hell.

On her skin,
as a weeping cross,
with drops,
bleeding,
put
the stigma –
now
her,
unrepentant
victim.

Someone laughed,
didn’t sleep.
Someone was crying
in the night.
Someone in a dream
was winged.

But
Black Gem fell out
of the Crown.
The Angel of the Gloomy Throne
was
wingless,
bloodless,
lifeless…
Forgotten,
and
fallen
was…

©Natalia Govsha