Lena
I'm buried and covered peaceful under millions of stars

Given ways to wisdom, to honor, to speculation, amidst the calamity, chaos, bedlam, and pestilence surrounding the world, the notion that her herd was being discarded, deluded, phantom-nailed once more, caused the bright gaze of Lena to flicker back towards the horizon. Was there naught they could do to wear away the enamel of etched scorn? Of malice, of malevolence, when the world taught them to fight back, to exude violence when they were traipsed down, conquered, devoured? Was this the double standard of the harems, spouting nonsense down the throats of newcomers, tasting the indulgence of speculation and divination without speaking to those mentioned? Were these the layers of injustice, cracking along the intertwining whims and caprices, fancies and foibles, of ignorant bliss? She frowned, heart hardened to the blight of the surrounding forces, where innocence and virtue were never scattered to their rubbled rock, to their glacial fortress, where every measure of their worth was lacquered and layered in perceived threat, menace, contortion – when all they longed to do was live in repose. The deep, honeyed stare resonated and fixated its poignant radiance upon the pale mare, who’d at least committed to asking, instead of drawing, sketching, and outlining the holes of accusations. “Its unfortunate when we are spoken against without a presence to refute such claims.” Because Lena knew demons, infidels and cretins, had seen them stirring in the glares of sinister, nefarious shadows, had observed their movements in lunatic dins and barbaric hymns, had paid witness to their trenchant, mordant sins, and none of them had been the beasts contained within the Basin. While their devotions swayed into different depths, either through perseverance, renewal, hope, gallantry, or the darkening threads of vigilant virility, undulating, rippling, coiling muscles of intimidation and domination, not once had they driven their actions without cause, without reason. The earth sometimes failed to convey the oaths, the motives, behind subtle ploys and pleas (were they supposed to lie, wait, plead, and beg for their children when they were taken from them, when veils attempted to abscond, scrape, crawl and claw their way into their souls?), and unfortunately, they’d reared their nonsensical head over the bridge once more. She tilted her cranium, curious and inquiring, ruminating in a series of spirited hallelujahs, lamenting forgotten heroines and heroes in the tides of absolution and devastation; the bright, brilliant eyes searching Liit’s, reaching for the truth beyond the shy exterior. “Do you think I’m a monster?” Are you labeled as a brute, a barbarian, when all you do is serve your herd, defend your land, bleed and sing for your comrades?