She had passion fueled by pain
igniting her words with a sting
always mistaken for venom.

For too long she was expected
to be silent mimicry
like a shadow to be tread on.

Words would always strike
at the marvel that she was,
an embodiment of golden light.

It emanated from someplace
deep beneath her skin
a legacy preserved in her spirit.

When her peace was disturbed
currents of rage churned
often seeping over her eyes.

Her world would capsize
in a weary blur as she drowned
in too much sadness

She demanded to be corporeal
refused to be stricken
insisting that she swim.

But, the fire of her plea
and the glare of her glow
were felt and remembered.

Her incinerating stand
ignited fear in their hearts
as they ached to diminish her.

In the midst of their roaring anger
they mistaken her for the monster
that is their reflection.