The veil

I saw her. She was in my dream walking on the red sandy road. She was wearing black burqa  and a child held her little right finger tightly. Her image was laced with a face and  2 tiny black eyes. Life is about walks and laughter, but now she only knows shock. Her wings are held earthbound vulnerable and silent as the grave. The sun may rise, for she who walks in shadow, the blackness that makes her disappear hidden away from those prying eyes. Nobody told her and the child how to cope with bombs and dreams of despots.