Woman of Jericho

It was arranged...

She would go to the king

To be his toy

His plaything...

Until he grew tired

Until he, maybe, expired

Her father...

Her family...

Would benefit...

While she

A young girl...

Would suffer for it...

How could she bear it?

Though she had to go...

To the king

There was to be...

NO wedding ring

There was no choice

Only that inner, quiet, still voice

In denial

In anger

In helplessness

An honour

Hardly

But still she must go...

How long till

His lust...

Burnt out

Then turned to ashes...

What choice does?

Any young girl, have?

Whether free or slave?

She is ruled by men

She may try to be brave

Does she fight?

What then?

Brutality...

Beatings...

Mistreatment...

Pain...

Even her father

Could not save her

For the king must have her

Must give in to his lust...

Any gifts she was given

Would be stripped from her

Delivered...

To her family

Thoughts of revenge...

Bought and paid for...

With rich clothes, jewellery

Pretending to enjoy it

She used it...

Would employ it...

To gain

Whatever she could

Be it awful...

Be it good...

There was no choice

She must still that voice

Her mind

A crouched lioness

Ready to dissect

Ready to assess

Watching, waiting

For some weakness to show

Then she could plan

Then she would know

A house of her own

Independence: an illusion

At best...

Yet, still she must survive

Still must sell...

Her very soul...

To achieve her goal

Eventual revenge

Spying upon

Emissaries

Yet: a fierce heart

Beat within her...

Along with her

It stored up 

Resentment

A gathering fury

An aching hunger

To break free

Here she lived

In her prison

Others had made

For her

This prison

She filled with...

Earthly treasures

Yet she had hopes

She had dreams

Everything depended

Upon the God of Israel

He was a true God

He would crush Jericho

He would put an end

To everything she had

Everything she knew...

Everything she could have...

Were they blind?

Could they not see the danger?

Living behind those 

Man-made walls

A protection of sorts

Imperfect...

Impenetrable

Hardly

Just as my father

Could not protect me

When I was a young girl

These walls

Cannot protect me

As a woman grown

I will lose all I own

Filled with fear of death

Destruction to come

She desperately 

Wanted to be

Swept up within

The safety of 

Her father's arms...

The Egyptian told her

Tales of Moses and his God

Most powerful

Of the plagues

Of Joshua

She went to the king

Tried to warn him

But in his pride

He would not believe

Any God could be

As strong as that

Of these Israelites

Who would believe?

No, not he

Walls, weapons, warriors

In these he would trust

His pride sat upon 

His throne...

He would not listen

Would not atone...

She could feel

God's presence

Wanted to serve Him...

She was Rahab

Woman of Jericho

Her story we all know...