The Promise


The girl was told hapless creatures cannot march,

finite their choices.

The girl was told woebegone bodies can only trudge,

rasping sound their voices.


Should they adjust to a haphazard manner,

curtailed their liberties.

Should they act on a dare,

enslaved their will. - Is it ever safe in captivity?


With scant regard to what they said,

austere her countenance and wild,

doomed to die on a cross,

tarnished her reputation, defiled.


A fleeting glimpse of what she craved:

caterpillars morph into butterflies.

Certain of the propriety of her request,

to lead a different way of life.


She then decided on a whim

-soggy the afternoon-

to spurn their charlatan generosity,

be ostracized she no longer would.


What must be reinstated?

What must be cast out?

What must be released?

The conventions she would flout.


Lofty, high her aspirations

unspoken thoughts dominated her mind.

To protect her sense of self she coveted,

heaved her chest, endeavoring to metamorphose her sullen sky.


A trickle of sweat ran through her forehead

daunted by the enormity of the challenge

beholden to no one but herself

binding forces kept her safe from the ravage.


The rain eventually subsided,

the vague promise was fulfilled.

Feats not words attest the truth

infamous for her deviance she would be.


That being the nature of her story

compelling, heart-rending or bizarre

looters of her celestial body

nonentities evermore vie for their star.




Pristine Souls


To write about such an enveloping warmth, 

I find it perplexing; it troubles me the most.

For some uncomfortable, for others queasy

and sundry others deem it uneasy.


Embrace the idea it primes your muddled brain

withstand to that, be racked with searing pain.

This soft yet deep and pleasing sound

cacophony it becomes when wights stamp out.


Is it my disposition to exaggerate?

Am I enthralled, elated, elevated?

Is it your duty to veer off the road?

I hold you culpable of mistreating your thoughts.


Clean the entire gunk from the inside

pristine souls depart untied.

The incubation period denatures your state

this labyrinthine reasoning I cannot venerate.


Be vigilant; be wakeful, rueful you will be

contagious the hosts of hearts that mind not skip a beat.

Overstep the boundaries, redraw them while you can

beyond redress intransigent a madman as you are.




Moment of Truth


My desperate need; need dire and driving

my greatest angst; the recipient I name you

my irremediable attachment; eternal is always eternal

my idea of bliss; embedded in my psyche .


I sanction the invasion; claim ultimate victory over me

I shed no tear; encapsulate my essence

I make a pledge to you; in the midst of a terrible life

I face the scathing indictment; my dormancy allowed me to hide


Daunted by the vastness of my nothingness

banished to oblivion, memories disturbing

arid years that have elapsed

consigned to interment, parched my land and empty.


In my moment of truth, in my moment of yearning

You are the one whose coming was foretold

my downcast eyes I hesitantly raise

my frailty leaves me, last-minute reprieve I have won.





Nobody Else but Me


Worming its way into the shadows

hiding behind the fences

the undertow once drowned it

leaving it blank and empty.


Worming its way into my affection

its services no longer required

regarded by others as an abomination

God, it is not your creation!


Remember the night it came to my dreams

caressed me with gentle words,

welcomed me with a kiss.

Fool I was to believe, it would someday leave me in peace.


Still, it gains ground while coming

calling my name waits not

my dreams nightmares became

my life was claimed, oh please, untie the knot.


Writhed in absolute agony

tantalized by its power over me,

“Leave me hunt me no more

disturbing nights I neither wanted nor sought.”


The desperate appeal has been made:

“Honor the agreement you must;

release the grasp of my mind

let me rest I will close my eyes.”


But it keeps coming and coming

threatening every bit of my soul.

Try as I might to keep it away,

disquieting, sobering become my thoughts.


Thus, one night I resolve I must kill it

remove the burden for once and for all.

The answer is kept underneath my pillow

the final act awaits to be performed.


Hush, it has come, I must feign

deep sleep has taken me again.

Sharp is the knife I take out

the blow is hard not in vain.


Such scream, such wail, such howl!

How can I stand any of these?

I open my eyes to discover

it is nowhere around to be seen.


It died, yes… I admit it

victorious the action indeed

yet the body which lies on the ground

is nobody else but me.




Sweet Marianthi


Well, is this a fitting end?

Is this what you’ve become?

The autopsy of yesteryear

a poem as simple as that.


An anamnesis of the unseeable in the fragments of memory you inhabit,

a safe berth to recline when dreams live in lull,

a luminous zone to be sought, sweet Marianthi,

a break in the clouds as the day falls apart.


At one time you solemnly asseverated,

“Be hard like a stone, my child, you must.”

The message was imparted so graciously

we humans can survive any black night.


Withal, you couldn’t endure the lines on your face

a million of heartaches compressed in a wan smile.

When you couldn’t identify yourself in the mirror,

you decided it was time to give up.


If only I had a million silences for you to hear,

a sanctuary built to store your haze away

and with my chariot to bring you near,

maim the heinous spirits including Fate.


Prior to your planned closure

a semblance of order.

What happens when we go?

Many a time I wonder!


© Lefcothea-Maria Golgaki


Bio:  Lefcothea-Maria lives in Athens, Greece. She has been involved in the field of ELT for the past 22 years and at the same time works as a freelance writer. This poetry collection was published by Adelaide Literary Magazine in 2019. Part of that collection also appeared in Mediterranean Poetry and in Aphelion webzine. One more poem also appeared in the Adelaide Literary Award Anthology. Finally, one of her articles ‘Life of uncertainty’ has been published by The Sentinel and Tri-town Tribune.