Her

Was it In her or Just her? It was magic.

Dark and tragic

Or bright just about right?

She saw the rainbows fade away;

She saw the sun lose its day.

She saw the trees hunt for shade

And hide its face;

Behind the clouds 

Also deep within the lakes.

She cried aloud 

When the mountain moved to Mohammed

At the brink when love finally surrendered.

Was it In her or Just her? It was magic.

Dark and tragic

Or bright just about right?

Was she queer by day and sly by night?

Was she here to slay or be’d?

She was a personification,

A metaphor, alas, without meaning.

She lacked in her what she found around.

She tasted what went missing but

Never was it to be found.

She was a portrait of the puzzle itself

Somehow that gave meaning 

And somewhere that let her be herself. 

Was it In her or Just her? It was magic.

Dark and tragic

Or bright just about right?

She wasn’t in a rush

Wasn’t in a queue

She was in solace, in awe

For she was looking around 

what she had lost in a few.

She said there wasn’t time,

For she was told.

Looking around in neglect and thirst,

She forgot what was on hold.

She craved what was hidden inside her

She caved when someone stood beside her.

She longed for a company-

Honestly, maybe her own.

Weighing upon her 

The world looking down upon;

False pressure was her companion 

And societal norms her add-on.

Was it In her or Just her? It was magic.

Dark and tragic

Or bright just about right?