Accursed golden eyes.
Trouble, danger and hate draw towards them.
Fire, flame and death wish to extinguish them.
Fear, sadness and everything bad stew in them…
As well as pursue them.
And they're mine.
Choking blackened smoke.
It strangles, blinds and silences me.
It's source burns, licks and hurts me.
It's makers laugh, sneer and curse me…
Though I am innocent,
The fire consumes me.
Misguided merciless jeers.
"There was no escape, witch!" they say.
"The eyes were your downfall!" they mock.
"Witch spawn… Like bitch like whelp!" they sneer.
Words that burn like the fire.
And no proof that they're wrong.
Choked, despairing cries.
"Mama!" She who gave me my curse.
"Aliya!" She who shares my curse.
"…hurts!" The truth, and consequence for my curse.
Words that speak my agony,
And they in no way help me.
Empty moonlit skies.
She shows the scars that cover me.
She shows my sister watching over me.
But she in no way shows the past that pursues me.
[Wow… That's darker than usual. Anyway, this is a rejected poem, that I tried submitting to Cicada magazine for their Creative Endeavors; Ghosts theme. I'm still proud of myself. A little disappointed, but proud of the poem. Anyway, fifth times a charm, I'm gonna figure something out for the next Creative Endeavor.]