Where is the light-hearted girl who lifted us
despite her small size, above our house,
above the clouds, and into space
to seesaw on the horns of the moon?
She smiled brightly at the world, then.
She laughed in the face of fear, curious
to grasp its truth in her hands; And eager,
no less as a teen than as her younger self
to command the crescent moon.
Outside the frames of memory,
today’s woman bares no resemblance
to my beautiful sister and friend.
Hot and harsh as damnation she is
drawing close to that man’s side
to be distorted in a shimmer of pride.
By him, we learn the door to hell is human,
and you passed through it after graduation; But
you abandoned to that route makes my blood cold.
If this is growing up, stop! You have been misled.
If it is an internal war, do not follow that Sith!
And spare us living prematurely with your ghost.
He who steals your light will watch you topple, or
worse: condemn you in a bottomless crater of fire as
lonely and ferocious as the one in the Karakum desert.