Throw roses into the abyss I declare,
"Here’s my thanks, monster, for the snare you spared."
My mind has worn thin by doubts I can’t appease,
Doubting even doubt I have found no ease.
When the soul drowns deep in sorrow’s sea,
It clings to pain in a twisted harmony.
Womanhood is a dance with agony’s flame,
Asking if our suffering wears beauty’s name.
We’re half sunshine and we’re half grave,
Living in the shadow of the love we crave.
The crowd that cheers our rise to fame,
Will watch us fall and still acclaim.
But we’ll rise again through every storm,
In this world where hearts are often torn.
Why do poets ponder Persephone’s call?
She’s both light and dark and relatable to all.
Can love exist for simply being?
When starved of love, we feast on nothing.
I’ve smiled at those who’ve whispered lies,
They think I’m blind, but I’ve seen their disguise.
In toxic ties we’re told to rise,
But growth cannot bloom where truth denies.
We’re half sunshine and we’re half wilted grave,
Living in the shadow of the love we crave.
The crowd that cheers our rise to fame,
Will watch us fall and still acclaim.
But we’ll rise again through every storm,
In this world where hearts are often torn.
A child stops a game when it’s no longer fun,
We should do the same and without guilt, just run.
From faint lovers, greedy friends, and the hate we’ve spun,
We’ll find our light when the darkness is done.
We’re half sunshine and we’re half wilted grave,
Living in the shadow of the love we crave.
The crowd that cheers our rise to fame,
Will watch us fall and still acclaim.
But we’ll rise again, through every storm,
In this world where hearts are often torn.
We’re half sunshine and we’re half wilted grave,
But we’ll rise again, and our spirits will be saved.
-aubs
August 11, 2024
In this poem, I explore the duality of existence, embracing both the light and the darkness that define our human experiences, mostly women. Through vivid imagery and bitter/sad metaphors, I grapple with the pain and beauty of womanhood, the bittersweet nature of love, and the relentless cycle of rising and falling. I question whether suffering holds a certain allure, and I ponder the resilience we must summon to survive in a world that often seems indifferent to our struggles.
I reflect on the societal expectations placed upon us, where we are cheered on in our moments of triumph, only to be watched with morbid fascination as we inevitably stumble. Yet, despite the harshness of this reality, there is a defiant strength in the repeated refrain—“We’ll rise again through every storm”—a testament to the enduring spirit that refuses to be broken.
I invoke Persephone, a figure who embodies both light and darkness, as a symbol of our shared human condition. The poem questions the nature of love and whether it can truly exist without conditions, especially in a world where we often find ourselves starved for genuine connection.
I conclude with a call to action, urging us to shed the toxic ties that bind us and to seek out our own light amidst the darkness. The repeated lines emphasize the persistent hope that, despite the graves we may find ourselves in, we are still capable of rising, of reclaiming our spirits, and of finding salvation in our resilience.
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