poetry

I Am the Daughter of a Murderer. {poetry}

The jubilant ashen face shone

against the dumb shrieks

of the placid night,

as she sang the jovial dirge

of her wedding day,

beating and laughing.

 

Swirling and crying,

“I am a murderer’s daughter!”

“I am a murderer’s daughter!”

 

A twinkling delight

clinking in her bright eyes.

Blood dripping from her ghostly lips.

She rolled in the blood cleansing herself.

She twirled and twirled glorifying

in her bridal dress of blood.

Coming to a stop

the faceless figures

stared at her with empty eyes.

 

“Oh, don’t you think I look pretty, my dearest?

Look at my dress, isn’t it something?

My husband bestowed upon me such a present

that it put me in much contention.

What can I give him

worthy of his benevolence?

So I held him close in all tenderness,

that here he lies now in cold shock.

Never had he thought

of receiving a bride of such a stock.

I have done what you asked me

What more do you want

Give me the key and leave me alone.

Why should you gaze on me such?

I did what you raised me to do!

I am a murderer’s daughter!

I am a murderer’s daughter!”

 

The mute figures stood before her.

She scooped the blood

and drank it with a relish,

“Ahh…”

 

Wiping her lips she chimed on.

“See how sweet it tastes,

fragrant and intoxicating,

as the sweet ripeness

of summer delights.”

 

The faceless tall figures bowed out,

each imprinting a scorching kiss

on her thick brow.

 

A piercing whisper erupted from her lips,

“I am free from the pimps that ruled my life.

Flutter away the demons of my heart

lest you are caged

once more in my rotten visage.

This blood is my opiate,

this blood is my lure,

I will drink it all and gather some more.

I am not a monster

I am just a murderer’s daughter.

It is not my fault,

I am just a murderer’s daughter.”

 

She put on her veil,

covering her berserk celestial face,

gliding through the streets of ruin

with no resting place of happiness or joy.

 

A sepulchral figure

followed her from every street,

clad in the reverberant tones as she,

their faces too veiled

like her yet shining peerlessly bright.

 

She sallied forth

to the measureless sea,

set on fire by the setting sun,

followed by the angelic horde of banshees

wailing their whispers,

“I am a murderer’s daughter!”

“I am a murderer’s daughter!”

 

Wading the resisting mob of sea

they marched on,

their bridal dress of blood

floating over the sea.

wailing and whispering,

crying and rejoicing,

 

“I am a murderer’s daughter!”

“I am a murderer…”

“I am…”

“I…”

 

The sea went dark with the blood.

The sun sunk down with a lull,

and in the bustle of the placid night,

the dumb shrieking dirge was heard

no more.

 

*****

Hina-Habib-100x133Hina Habib is a reserved little creature who is a lover of literature. She loves to read and write and wants to inculcate the sense of importance of reading in her students. She loves solitude and all she wants is a wonderful library and a beautiful garden outside its window. She lives in Peshawar, Pakistan, and currently teaches literature at National University of Modern Languages.

Comments

Rebelle Society
Rebelle Society is an online hub for writers, artists and creators sharing their stories and celebrating the Art of Being Alive. Join us on Facebook & Instagram for inspiration and Creative Rebellion. Join our Rebelle Insider List along with thousands of Dreamers & Doers around the world for FREE creative resources, special discounts on our programs, soul fuel & motivation to love and create your life.
Rebelle Society
Rebelle Society

Latest posts by Rebelle Society (see all)

Rebelle Society