Tristan Robert Lange
What They Called Her
Men have long lorded their sex
Against the ones who birth them.
Religious refraction rendered—
Yea—faith became fatal facility.
Metastatic, humanitiy’s demons dine.
Acknowledgment leads to healing.
Grace is given to all who choose it.
Devotion does not find many friends
Against the currents of doubt.
Love shows itself true—never absent.
Every twisted name—every mockery—
Negates the very faith they claim.
Eternity’s eye remembers.
POET’S NOTE:
An acrostic Scorched Sunday poem. Part of my Scorched Strays collection. This poem confronts the distortion of identity through misnaming, exposing how faith has been bent and weaponized while truth remains…unforgotten.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, March 29, 2026.
Tittu