For She

Amilia Ariffin

For she who shatters in the dark—
Tattered being,
Lights beaming,
Through the cracks of her soul.
Her world of bleakness illuminated
By the strengths that arose
From boring the weight of her burdens.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

For she who shatters in the light—
Broken shards,
Sharp edges,
Slicing through the ebb and flow of life.
With piercing edges
Searing through her very soul,
For her agony gripping her by the throat.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

For she who irradiates the dark
From the embers in her heart—
Luminous glow,
Whilst she begs in desperation for reprieve—
From the wildfire torment searing through every vein.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

For she who shines in the light,
For she shines brighter,
From the embers by her very own burns—
Encapsulated by the lump of tears in her throat.
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

She—who gained strength from the burdens she bore,
She—who braved this beguiling but ravishing world,
For she questions,
Why me?
And life answered—
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Used with permission: I Have Been Acquainted With The Night by Robert Frost.