I hear you.
Voices
whispering in my ear
taunting
disturbing
the aura
surrounding me.
Vicious.
I cringe
tongue lashing
striking
finding chinks in the armor.
I try so hard
not to scream in defeat.
Nails
talons
hook my soul
pulling forth
wraiths
dancing with the devil
tears shatter on my cheeks.
Bereaved
on my knees
unable to forget
head bent
submission
why oh god
why
can I not obliterate
the memories that I carry.
Prostrate
I lay upon the alter
blooded laments
anger stirring
rage
a bonfire
consuming.
Wanting nothing more
than to dismiss….
fear
pain
doubt
conjuring….
strength
time
belief.
I struggle to my knees.
Supplicant
hands raised
forehead bent
touching the cobbles
I cannot abate
let loose
fall free
of the person I am to be.
November 3/18
Excellent, but you mean ‘prostrate’ not prostate, the prostate is something else entirely. 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you. Going to change
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 You’re welcome, I often get them the wrong way round, I’ve had many a doctor in stitches. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
😂😂Glad to know I am not the only one
LikeLiked by 1 person
So many words powerfully determined for the same destination. Excellent writing!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much. 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person