She Was Meant to Have Home in the Sky

She was meant to have home in the sky,
yet she stood still, she questioned why.
The stormy breath, the bleeding night,
lightning burned, yet she stayed upright.

They taught her prayers were meant to fly,
then tear them down and let them die.
They broke them on their sharpened steel,
scattered them far till none were real.

She begged them, let the flower grow,
so pure, so white, yet still unknown.
They wished her different, yet knew not how,
they only asked that she should bow.

But she stood tall, she wouldn't fall,
her heart unchained, untouched by all.
And so she waited, still and free,
until the sky her hue would see.

© Tereza Sklovská | Different Worlds by Sklovská

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