Strait-laced, straight-faced
Fallen angel fell from grace
The first woman was no myth
Her name not Eve, but Lilith
Not from the rib, but born from clay
Beneath Adam, she would not lay
So when she was cast into the abyss
She became a force to be reckoned with
Come hell or fury, she would fly
Like a black bird in the sky
She rules the night while you sleep
And bought her own soul to keep
© Lisa Marshall Feminism Poetry HRM NS 2022
Midian Poet 
Thanks for the reblog, Midian Poet! 🙂
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You’re welcome,
I like it very much.
Have a nice creative day!
,,myth…Lilith…RIB…
…clay…. lay..WITH….“
Ringing in ears! After days.
Amazing work with words, sound great- in another language 🙂
And good choice of picture- This Raven almost say- Nevermore ! Nevermoooooore- !:)
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