All That Remains

 By Shruti Date

Once her temples stood on sacred grounds

her altars so high, the heavens knelt down

and reverent whispers chanted her name

 

Now fading into silence in the halls of their power

she watches her home become her tomb

etched in stone, tainted by the touch of drunken conquests

 

Oh they built her temples, homes, and tombs

and then burnt them all, to the ground

chipped away at her raw form

sculpting smooth curves they could all adore

 

But she isn’t theirs to sculpt

she isn’t theirs to taint, to gaze at,  to touch

she’s not theirs to pray to

Beyond her crumbling shrine

held up by mortar and bricks

stand all who looked her in the eye

 

For she’s a goddess, don’t you see

not her gaze, not her touch

it is her wrath that will

 

Turn them into stone

a mere carving

of all who dare take her name.

About the author:

Shruti Date (She/Her) is a media student who loves to capture the essence of the human experience. Through her words and art, she tries to convey the importance of the little things in life that shape up to form the greater picture. You can connect with her through @ruslens on Instagram.