Is there joy

Why

Is there joy in my pain
Wisdom in my yearning
Wounds inflicted sting deep
Evading
Elusive
Porcelain figurine
Ill-fitting and broken
Lay scattered on the floor
These pieces of my heart
Castrated
Degraded
Prophet speaks of kindness
Doing unto others
Shouting from his pulpit
Isolated
Dissipated
One-hundred pieces lay
Bloodied and bruised and torn
In wake she is standing
Solemn and so alone

***