Void

Twisting spirals intertwined,
Red and green
aligned.
Jutting roof, dragon corners
a sweep of shade below
—she emerged.

Ashy-dark hair
with some white dust remaining.
Hung heavy and low.
Her feet scraped the ground leaving
a train of dirt and pebbles scattered
in her wake.

Coarse yellow threads make
a decaying tapestry broken by
the rusty columns which
do nothing to stop
clouds of dusty sins.

The swirl of tradition and ignorance surrounded it.
Weaving a hazy cloak
blinding people.
Not a new home
old.
Old as religion.
Stolen from over the sea
stuck onto a new landscape,
dry, decaying wheat.

Woven like straw
banded.
Yellow-framed, a red and black staircase
going up and up…
Cut off. Dried blood.
Drooping towards the ground before
being caught up.
An ancient slithering cord of poison
—brought to surrender.

Truth preys at night
sneaking into
troubled minds
once set free by lies and fantasies.

Her venom pours
out of her ash hair and
her mouth and
her dirty feet.

Crippling certainty that
dries up the
world.

Truth is blank—
hiding and scurrying.
Slipping in and out
of gaze.

Avoiding needles and questions
sliding out
of fingers.

An empty bucket overturned
somewhere in the world.

Ana Hahs is an English major at San Jose State University in California. She uses poetry as a tool to explore her own emotions but hopes that the end result expresses an idea that is in some way meaningful to all readers. When Ana is not putting words down on paper, she spends her time getting inspired by other authors, as well as pop culture and her personal life. Ana has an A.A in English from West Valley College, and some of her other poems have been published in their literary anthology Voices.