She Who Is - by Dolapo Oludairo

She Who Is I am weary, burdened by the endless fight, An unyielding war where the horizon never breaks. Where struggle has no end, Where I fight a battle I never began. Is it I who face the inevitable fall?Or the weight of another’s ruin I carry, Forever, silently, in my soul? I guard the names, the legacies of those who came before, Yet, lose sight of those whose light ignites the dawn of each day. And what of me, I ask? Who am I beneath the weight of all this? I am she. She whose heart dares to defy the laws of this world. She whose thoughts rebel, Unchained, unrepentant, Breaking every rule written in the stars. She who is conquered by her own desires, Yet refuses to surrender, Fighting on in the name of some unknown cause. She whose joy resides in the chaos, In the unholy imaginings that bring no peace. She who dances in discord, Amidst the mess of men. She who claims the devil’s love as her own. She who bares the wound for enemies not her own. She who loves a world she can’t stand, And loathes herself within it. She, the savior in whose arms no salvation exists. Ella, la trampa en la que caen los desprevenidos, She whose tears flow at the feet of the Messiah, Yet clings to Lucifer's embrace. And still, I ask: Am I she? She, the one called a disgrace among women, The devil's handmaid, Lucifer’s design, Satan’s sculpture— She who speaks betrayal against her own creation, Her own reflection shattered in her mind’s eye. I. I am she. The winged shadow of darkness, The first lie, the first whisper. She who is called both fallen and damned, By the world and by herself. But, does she trust in hell, Turning her back on the shield of the high angels? Has she sold her soul, crossed the line too far For the Messiah to reach her, For salvation to touch her again? She, who once stood as a mere sinner, now stands At the right hand of the devil. She sinned, she gave in, To the whispers that promised chaos, Her greatest temptation, Her greatest control. Is it in the signs?The marks, the symbols, Of the devil’s indictment upon her soul, Carved into her heart and onto her shoulder. She, who calls herself the devil’s bride, Who has made him lord over her being, Surrendering herself to his dominion. Soy ella. The one who sold her pride and dignity For the devil's kiss, For his touch that promised power, But left only ruin in her wake. Me perdí en el camino. Ahora estoy atrapado con el diablo.

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