Can an anchor be your support, or does it weigh you down?
I was a bud, battling against the storm
I longed to be caressed by dawn
I longed to be enchanted
I unfurled my tender petals and was enamoured by your sheen
You welcomed my blossom and embraced my naivete
You brought meaning to my existence, you brought life
You were the pole star, I anchored on you to spread my fragrance
As time and storm gained wistful wings,
your sheen burned and scorched me
The blossom withered against your rage and might
In vain I try to loose the anchor
Only to see that it hangs heavy
Heavy around my neck like the albatross that I’d hunted and
Weighs me down in the name of culture, womanhood and society.
First published at author’s blog
Image via Pexels
A story teller, a listener and an eager learner. I believe that the world is a story book, each person has a story to unravel, read more...
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