Comfortable Suffering

Hear the chatter of the voice,
Of the parrot in the cage.
See the lady’s pet of choice,
With plumes the color of bloody rage.

The cage of iron beautifully wrought,
Stands against a white-washed wall.
Against the heat the wall had fought,
And yet the sun feigned not to fall.

The women sat within the gate,
Of the courtyard of their home.
There they would eternally wait,
In silence as if they were alone.

An ant crawls across the place,
Red-hot tiles which make the floor.
It marches across a strip of lace,
A gown stitched by hands quite poor.

Listen now to their fans,
Chasing sweat from the face,
Which will age despite their plans.
Now even here can time keep pace.

Against the wall grows a vine,
Whose fingers stretch and widen cracks,
And for its freedom it does pine,
Growing despite all it lacks.

The sun beats down upon the scene.
There is no breeze to chase away,
The sighs behind their veils’ screen,
Passions, by corsets, kept at bay.

Within these walls lives Despair,
And her sisters all in chains,
Of flowing gowns and scented hair,
A palace prison where beauty wanes.