Inspired, I wrote:

Valhalla Rising,

Upon her face is porcelain resistance. Once tender to the touch, now stony in refracted light. Stiff is her gaze reflecting sterner thoughts of judgement and denial. Soft memories they do not serve. Pottery, though hard, is fragile. When struck and struck again she cries tears of gold to fill the cracks. Stronger in their makeup now by chemistry of bondage. Yet through each guilded line shines truth. Sweet beams of soul marks from out her shell. Cry tears of gold, the chosen paths of sadness.