Ode to the Duchess of Malfi: all woman are her (third position)

The cruelty of men placed her within a barbed wire cage,
But oh how strong she stood; so bold and so very brave,
unafraid, she kept her spirit, from the black hooked talon’s,
And a dark murder, that longed to scythe the night apart.

The bitterness of men mocked: as they cruelly fought her,
They placed a gnarled rope around her proud, noble neck;
And she took what they gave her, so she faced her monster,
while the cruel brothers she knew, just broke her heart.

The sheer fury of men spat and labelled her harlot,
But they did not know of the power that she had within,
For she was honest and proud and defiant and so loud,
And the man that she dearly loved gave himself for her.

But… oh… Christ how bloody brightly she still now sings,
With such open blossoming spring, that from shining tiers
Which wrestles here so beautiful so eternal and so bright,
That slowly glisten as they rise with an ever diamond hew.

Who is she? She is the light, she is the stain, she is the song,
She is the refrain, she is the humble the woken the proud.
She is the beauty, she is the duty, she is the body so strong.
For she is all woman, she is in all women, and all women are her.

Without her there all is darkness: without her there all is mere void,
without her there is bloody violence and the need to just destroy.
In an never ending rage, that swirls above a still brethed lough
where men long to reach for the sword of kings that shines forever proud.