The daughter of the mountains keeps her head held high,
Before the clash of steel and storm.
Gazing downwards from the peak of the Vindhyas should have made her fears seem quite small,
But the weight of her husband's glowing trident made her ego feel rather forlorn.
The sound of the conch shell of the universe's preserver
Does nothing to silence the racing of her heart.
She could not falter, lest history rewrite her song
Leaving every woman to believe that even a goddess could fall apart.
She dodges and swerves, expertly avoiding the arrows of uncertainty,
And sends Vayu a silent prayer to let her own aim land true.
She channels her fury into her destructive rampage
Because all's fair in war and rue.
The midnight thunderstorm drowns several asuras, along with any remaining shred of dilemma.
She leaps from the gallows, hurling Vajra at the losing team.
A flash of lightning illuminates the morbidity of the scene.
She remains apathetic, and lets her lion's roar mask the asuras' screams.
Her emotions shapeshift with her opponent
As she attempts to shield herself from the darkness of despair.
She braced his onslaught, absorbed his blows and made it look completely effortless,
But even the impenetrable Shakti was forced to admit that her match was really quite fair.
Enveloped in righteous rage, Durga recalls Mahishasura's countless crimes
Against the three worlds, the gods, and the women she represents.
The blunt force of her mace shattered everything in her vicinity,
For she was determined to make the tyrannous monster repent.
Bedecked in jewellery and festive attire, the goddess emerges unblemished from the murky waters of bhayanaka.
Her lotus blooms proudly in the face of danger, refusing to lose a petal.
Her braid glistens in the moonlit sky, and the stars outline her smile.
If looks could kill, she'd try and succeed, for her eyes alone could bring down the devil.
The Sudarshana Chakra cuts through her illusions of doubt
And any obstacles that come her way.
The wheel of time shows her a clear deadline
Surpassing which her devotees would cease to pray.
She sought her husband's support during her crucial moments
Clutching the Naga that bound them.
She let the fearsome creature run wild
While envisioning the asura's postmortem.
Revelling in the knowledge that she had been underestimated, her sword slashes through that falsehood.
Mahishasura Mardhini parades the demon's severed head, letting the world know she emerged victorious.
With lethal grace, without breaking a sweat, she ensured it would never be said,
That Shakti could have a moment of weakness.
A/N: Durga faced not just Mahishasura, but her own fear of failing the gods as well as every woman that looked up to her. Each weapon she holds tells a story, both of how she used it against her opponent and of how it was metaphorically used against her.
Disclaimer: This is just a "what if" situation, with no disrespect intended towards any deity. The objective of this poem was to showcase that it's okay to have a little bit of fear, what matters is not letting it hold you back. Bravery isn't the absence of fear, but the strength to overcome it during your crucial moments.
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