GMC Poetry: Oya

Ebony skin glistens

Stretched taut over hard muscle

An arm raises above a dreadlocked head

Sunlight glints across the razor-sharp machete edge

Thick lips pull back in a sharp grin

Just as razor-sharp as the weapon

A bloodcurdling cry bursts forth from deep in the throat

As the machete drops with deadly accuracy.

Eyes black as onyx sparkle

With fire from the abyss.

Oya, Goddess of Winds, Lady of Storms, will not be denied.

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