Boudica

Boudica-por-Dashinvaine

(image by Dashinvaine)

 

They came like a storm, like black birds

Picking clean my bones,

Breaking, hurting, raping, slashing

Trusts, honours and backs.

They came like a storm

Of red cloaks and red blood,

And forged the lance in my heart:

Out of my tears, out of my hate,

It rose, out the screams of my babes,

My daughters of flowers turned into mud.

They came like a storm,

Flushing the goodness from myself.

And I knelt before the dark goddess

And asked to be made merciless and brave.

No more tears have I shed.

No hesitation has stopped my steps.

I am the queen who will be no slave,

The bringer of the scream,

The painter of the red.

I have become their lighting and their thunder.

The mid-wife of their fears.

I have crushed their spears and howled

The call of war.

I am the lance and I am the sword;

The avenger of chastity turned blood,

Of freedom chained, of broken oaths.

 

I am she, who teaches terror, to those who brought the storm.

 

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