We are children
Of a lesser god
We lost everything
That we valued
Not precious stones
Jewels, mansions,
Or possessions;
No, none of that –
We had nothing
Of that nature,
No earthly treasure
To begin with,
Except our honour,
Cloaked in dignity,
Shimmering
With the radiance
Of innocence.
They went for it first,
That fragile thread,
Perhaps its glimmer
Held the allure,
And when it broke,
There was no furore
Only silence,
And bewilderment.
So much so,
That the further loss
Of dignity,
And honour,
Perhaps didn’t register,
In our broken beings,
Trembling,
For lack of warmth,
And the rupture,
Of everything
That meant safety.
Nobody came rushing
To take us on their wings,
To tend to our broken bones,
Or our bleeding wounds,
We had failed yet again,
By becoming prey.
Our first failing,
Is in existing,
For there is no place here
For the likes of us,
We are children,
Of a lesser god.