scarlet vessel


She is slowly tipping over,

Haunted by visions

Only her eyes can see

They think she is beyond redemption

Reaping the fruit of her wild oats


She howls at night

Sleep at the break of dawn

And then screams some more

They mimic her gestures

And laugh at her prophecies

She is convinced

ghosts of her past wouldn’t let her be

They taunt and hound her


She must make amends

Confess her many trespasses

The people must see her for who she truly is

A wanton child

they must strip her of all saintliness

make her lose respect in their eyes

How would they know that it’s for the best?


Alas, she would come out glowing

a tale that will hold the congregation

spellbound; been there, done all that

If she could be a vessel after the filth

Then there is a good chance for them too

For me, for you.

© Amaka Paul 2016

image source:pixabay