Shieldmaiden

Don’t be my Juliet,
Nor my Leila,
Or a Rapunzel trapped
Far away atop
A phallic tower
Anxious to be rescued.
Don’t lie half dead
In a maze of roses,
Or under a glass coffin.
Don’t bother showing up
In a pretentious ball,
Wearing uncomfortable glass slippers,
Only to be valued mercilessly
By some guy with a foot fetish.
Don’t sacrifice your voice,
Or other wonderful gifts
To claim my affection.
Be your true self,
My shield maiden,
With hair untamed,
Unbound by the wind of change,
Roaring and screaming,
As loud as thunder,
Piercing eyes gazing at the horizon…
Don’t be a Sati,
As my Shiva needs her Parvati.
Don’t be my Juliet
Nor my Leila…