Frida: La Vida

Lively soul,

from the house of ocean and heavens,

vibrant,

ephemeral.

 

Plagued by malady at every turn,

pierced by cupid's arrow,

bones crushed by conveyance,

blossomed ardor,

capturing hues,

still,

silence.

 

Abandoned for others by her love,

she flees into the embrace of another,

but always,

it's always her Diego.

 

Shadows of the past followed,

clawing.

Malady silenced her,

but never her soul.

 

This poem is about: 
My country

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