Cave

In the cave of despair she followed through

she followed through till the end.

In the mouth of a hundred teeth she tarried

searched desperately for a friend.

in the gullet of stone, first so cold then so warm

searching, not destined to find.

In her sleep she would toss in her life she was churned

up in that awful stomach’s grind.

 

It seems some of us are not fated to come

to come out of this nightmare alive.

Does it mean if our bodies are chewed, crushed, spat out

that our spirits will not then survive?

Do we count ourselves to be more victims of chance

victims of mischance fallen foul?

Or may struggle relentless against woeful odds

lead to somebody freeing their soul?

-Sarah Ahmed

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