I have lost almost everyone I ever loved one way or another. Do not pity me. That is not what I want. I have the strength of mountains and oceans. I can see through the lies and into minds. I know the truth within me, but no one will listen, because they do not want to know, do not want to hear. And, so I stay alone.
But, on my death day or soon after, my ghazels will be found, my laments to God, to love, to life. And, then that day, someone will say, "she did love God. Leslie Sage was more than we thought. We thought she was a drunkard who danced in the street and sang in the tavern. We thought she was an enigma, who had no rules and no religion, who could not conform."
And, all will be true, for, she did not have rules, except not to break the law or harm anyone, but no one had any rules to not harm her, so she became frustrated and doubted. Still yet, she would not harm them, and she had no desire to.
She tried to take care of others, to give them their heart's desire, her husband, her mother, her children, but no one could she satisfy, and so she gave up finally, and let go.
Now, all that is left of Leslie, is her ghazels, in heaps and mounds, someday to be found.
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