Trapped in stone
her years slowly passed
in rigid silence,
her inner cries for freedom
muted, unheard,
except by her soul.

Her stone face
couldn’t smile or cry.
No trickle of joy or grief
ran past her carved cheeks.

The never ending sameness of her life,
the dark cavern of her existence,
the need of another for her to be
the rock upon which he stood,
kept her locked and frozen in place.

At last her sculptor gave way.
With the clatter of his fallen chisel
stone fractured and crumbled to her feet.

No longer encased in granite,
wet joy sprang forth
to slide down to her once hard lined mouth,
and she tasted sweet liberty.
As freedom softened her frozen veins,
she stood on the rugged peak that once was her life,
and valleys rang with her laughter.