Fate-Faded

 In the morning

 While everyone slept, but birds rose with the sun,

 You woke up from dust,

 Stood in front of that rusting-green gate,

 Faced the wind, while its chilly air batted your face,

 You unbraided your hair, coconut oil in the air,

 Traced the pattern it created with your fingers,

  And felt the unbridled strands, fresh and free.

 It was momentary, but you had a yearning for the hands that strangled those tails so strong,

 so strange.

 For her, it had to be tight, to look neat.        

For you, it was misery,

a misperception.

 Moments you wished your pettiness to fade,

 Did you know better?

         -------

 In the morning,

 When the wind moved through your hair, down the path lines of your braids,

you looked up at the sky, clear and beautiful,

And (as) you felt like souring

That was the momentary morning

When the storms of despair flooded to your mind,

feelings of hopelessness,    

You knew the truth glared and hope faded.

morning was freedom, it was a luxury,

        a serenity,

but, a mercy that felt costly,

The morning was short-lived,

And it died just like yesterday, the day before, and forever.

New braids, fresh coconut oil in the air,

The night crawled in, 

No hope, inescapable,

The wails re-lived again tonight,

And maybe our fate, unsolicited, has arrived,

Our last breath,

Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, 

Would cease.