The seamstress

A veil of the beauty, the cloth had hubris,
With the cursed wind the fortress breached,
Scarred by the evil eye, the beauty laid,
She took respite in the raging blade,
One drop at a time, the shine is replaced.
One tear at a time, the cloth disgraced.

The cloth is weary and torn in grief
The blood, sharpened by knife, is relieved
One stain at a time she washes
One sin at a time she cleanses

One stitch at a time, the seamstress weaves
One wound at a time, she heals