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The Woman
Rossana Leal

She walked along the edge of the river
crying and screaming frantically in vain.
Shedding tears of sorrow and silver
for she was the cause of her pain.
An evil made, an unforgivable sin,
Violence against her own kin.

Once the most beautiful,
but also, the most prideful.
Who was she?
La Malinche?
the siren Lorelei?
the sorceress Medea?
Many stories, many a name
One same claim to fame

A woman, a cautionary tale,
A monster, a child's nightmare
A shallow, sinful, sorry sight
The weeping, wailing woman
Alone, walks the river at night. 

Her desperate cries echo from the lake
A long thin veil and a ghostly white dress
Bloody, dark tears follow in her wake
Always searching, unable to rest
she seeks to right her mistake

Careful, for the weeping woman
Still roams the river at night.

​
As a Hispanic women with a love for storytelling, the legend of La Llorona has always fascinated me. She’s more than just a ghost story, but the most well known Mexican myth.

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