Seven Days of Prayer (Poem)

Image taken when I was still married.

We prayed for seven days.
But, by the last day,
we still needed more days to pray.
On the first day we prayed well
by the well.
We prayed for strength and to be saved from hell.
Strength to carry and bear the weight of the bear.
The furless bear that was living
rent-free within.

On the second day we prayed for union and companionship.
In that unionship,
some told us to alter ourselves to benefit from their gold.
Some told us to worship at their alter, and to their forbidden gods.
Some gave us bands,
while some gave us rose stems.
But they all promised us a life full of bliss,
and concerts to see bands like Kiss.

On the third day we prayed for courage and strength.
We thought that we needed to lean on to some friends.
We begged to rest our lean bodies on their shoulders.
We said that we needed a match
in which we could meet our match.
We asked for a cover to cover up and shield us;
providing a shield from the storms of life.

On the fourth day we prayed for assertiveness and self-esteem.
But, like a bow without its own direction,
we jumped as high as they told us.
And gave a bow after each and every performance.
We skipped and hopped for everyone despite their lies.
In fact, we also skipped all the steps necessary to living full lives.

On the fifth day we prayed for security and protection.
But some betrayed and beat us because we intimidated their situation.
And some became deadbeats
to the children that we bore for each.
We were left beat, with no fun.
Missing the beat to the sound of our own drum.

On the sixth day we prayed for solitude; some space from an alliance.
But we went on to perform for this and that audience.
Some were fair skinned;
some were dark skinned.
Some were fair to us,
while some were cruel too much.
But we remained amongst them
because we chose to be one with copendence.

On the seventh day we prayed for bravery.
But our conduct had changed gravely
because, for six days, we’d invited others to conduct our song.
We’d geared up for them and shot arms at ourselves for so long.
Meanwhile they’d raised their arms up, cheering for our self-destruction.
And, once we were doomed in their mission,
they bounced like a wave;
vanishing without a wave.

Neber be afraid to leave a relationship that is harmful to your individual growth.

Published by Mitta Xinindlu

Mitta Xinindlu is an author of books in fiction and nonfiction genres. She is a versatile writer and researcher. Her qualifications in academics include a Master of Science in Project Management and a Six Sigma Green Belt. A multilingual writer with a knowledge of ten languages. Her language skills range from elementary to native. She also knows Tech languages such as R programming and Python. Her work in writing has been featured in digital and print media. Media platforms include Parade Magazine, Thought Catalog, Psychology Today, and Your Tango Magazine, In 2019 PoemHunter selected one of her poems as a Poem of the Day.

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