A Braid of Copper

Curling like the mists of Avalon
Entwined in shiny fractals of metal
Spun by the wizened hand of the fates
You—the Pearl of paradise.

Washed in the molten blood of our fathers
Baptized in a million river of tears
Dripping with the rivulets of our name.
You—the ink of history.

Floating, ululating, sliding
Images of your lithe limbs
Contorted in postures of ecstasy
You—the spring of passion.

Scarred by the deeds of our living
The last vestige of the creation pillars
Sandalwood and sisal
You—the goddess of nine rivers.

With mouths as open as hell’s jaws
And protruded tongues pregnant with praise
Let us sing out your name
You—a braid of copper

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