Arachne.

Carrying her sorrows in silken sac,
unwavering whilst weaving wildly.
Under sombre sun and callous cloud,
she spits and hisses, feeling jilted.

Centuries since she's been hopeful,
eight eyes, wide open, filled with wonder.
Mourning every almost happy ending
crushed each time she lost a blessing.

Scarlet letters sealed her fate as a spinster,
wrongfully accused of eating men for dinner.
Society classified her as a sinner,

once jade and emerald, now a black widow.

So she spun her salience armed for battle;
no army could have anticipated her arrival.
Adorned in a coat made of her ex-lovers;
Hell hath no fury like the venom inside her.

Three. Sixty. Five.

I -

Bones rattled and teeth chattered, 

like unwanted shrapnel from some unsavoury stew. 

Smiling whilst administering lethal injections 

that painted both our lips blue—

even Gestapo couldn't be callous like you.

II -

Cleansing rain falls from clouds 

onto my caterwauling heart, 

rescuing it from the extreme state 

where its mouth was blistered and parched. 

Today—I have been granted a fresh start.

III - 

Ablaze again; amazed, by the ways 

I have evolved into a better man. 

Not terracotta delicate but rather, 

resilient as rock. 

Baked but bathing in the beat 

of brilliant song.

IV -

Recycle, reuse, reduce, then rinse, 

and finally repeat. 

The regrowth that left me reborn 

buried itself beneath the Beeches,

and below the streets; 

a cycle come full circle and complete.

V -

With little visibility, 

all I could do was brave whatever lie ahead. 

When all falls down and failure reigns, 

remember even yeast rises again 

it can blossom into bread.

VI -

In the aftermath of my desperation—

once my sorrow's streams dried up like the Sahara. 

I wouldn't resign myself to monochrome. 

I could not surrender to Sepia! 

I opted to explode with vibrancy instead; 

raging reds, orange opulence, 

and you'll-never-forget-me yellows.

Hurt.

She permitted a single, sobering tear to stream down her right cheek,
as she tightened her grip on my hand, and began to speak:

"You asked me where it hurts, and forgiveness would not be an easy task, if I were to lie and pretend I am fine, instead of wearing many masks." 

"It hurts everywhere", she continued, "there is no inch of me without pain. Nor is there a moment in my day without ache, tension, or strain." 

Then the dam broke, and her sadness poured from her like a flood, 
waves of nausea washed over me at the sight of her sadness stained by civilian blood. 

"Take for instance, Israel or the Gaza Strip, right here in the Middle East," at this, she pointed to her abdomen and winced like it was being devoured by some unseen beast.

Humans have destroyed me, killing one another in the process,
the ugliness of man is unlike any other to prevent its own progress.

Their bombs rip me to shreds, and replace my beauty with craters; 
once there was a time the other planets envied my never-ending nature.

Now, they laugh at me, for allowing myself to grow old and decay,
if I could do one thing over, I would have refused to let humans have their way.

As soon as they invented gunpowder, I knew the end was near,
now I peacefully await my death, I no longer have any fear.

They forced one another into camps, waged wars creating wastelands, drained my oceans of water, and shortened my once eternal lifespan."

At this, she sagely crossed her legs and sat down on the ground,
she began to cradle Africa and screamed, without emitting a sound.

"This is where it all began, but then greed robbed my daughter of her speech, every evil man on Earth had his way with her, then erased her history with bleach

Once, her wildlife was teeming, elephants, and rhinos roamed the Serengeti, but now even her diamonds have been plucked and resold, although they were once free."

She began to cough, as she recalled nations overwhelmed by smog,
pollution filled her lungs, and toxic waste filled her arteries with clogs.

"I am unsure what I did to deserve such ungrateful guests,
who took the resources I gave them, then raped me and took the rest.

You asked me where it hurts, and I can only reply with 'everywhere,'
no mother exists who could survive her own child's chemical warfare."