Mary

I think quite often of "Mary" these days

"Bloody Mary" as she was called

Are we similar she and I

And she the queen that burnt all.

Our dissimilarities many too

Born centuries and continents apart

I try to make sense of her pain and grief

Try to see her hell through my eyes.

Torn away from the womb that gave her birth

Not a bastard was she

Forced to serve the king's progeny

Her dignity trampled by all.

But then, how did she become so reviled

A fearsome, loathsome queen

She killed and killed

Her hunger never satiated

The protestants burnt alive

She hated and hated, she sought revenge

Her life engulfed in flames.

But could she ever hurt the "one"

That burnt her soul in hell?

If she hated "him" the most

Then why did her revenge seek all?

Did "Mary" find her God?

She died a loner's death.

She chose God as her companion and savior,

Did she find her peace?

Did those incessant killings soothe her soul

Bring her self worth back?

Her sense of self, her sense of pride

Trampled upon by "Him".

Which part of her did "He" damage so bad,

That revenge was all she sought?

She ceased being a woman, a nurturer, a daughter

And soaked her hand in blood.

I wish she found her peace

On her deathbed

Letting go of her grief

Maybe, just maybe in the end

The eternal light shining above

Told her

She was much more, a lot more

Than a "mere She".