Cassandra

Glorious in her fury,
she stands on the edge of the world.

Watching.

Behind her
the ocean roars,
in ancient tongues
crying-
for everything that was lost.

Before her
the war rages,
an unholy symphony
crescendoing-
though nothing will be gained.

Waiting.

She has seen all this in dreams.
Nightmares,
encoded in her soul,
embedded in her mind.

Her fury is glorious
and righteous.

The anger of the helpless
for the weak.

The frustration of the seer
no one hears.

She looks up
and can only wonder why.

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