The Lady of Shalott Speaks

by Erina Booker

The Lady of Shalott Speaks
by Erina Booker

My mirror’s broken, cracked from side to side,
With shards of glass, small daggers on the floor,
And in myself there’s no place left to hide,
My Selfhood now a bleeding, running sore.
What caused this glut of tragedy to come,
Each after each, no respite in between,
Dark clouds have formed, obscuring the gold sun
Thus changing it to metals crass and mean.
The magic web, made with colours bright –
My purpose in this cruel and grey-walled tower,
Now filled with threads as black as darkest night
Which cast a pall within my remote bower.
Escape to Camelot seemed my last hope,
But woven webs can prove too tight a rope.

©Erina Booker 2015

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