FREE
I saw her stand in the fog
Enticed by the cold, cold rain.
I hear her sob out her heart,
I hear her weep with pain.
No refuge there in the stillness
Yet she stood mid the thunderpeal
Filling her breast with shards of chaos
Nursing a wound that would not heal.
There's a thousand ghosts in the midnight
Yet she feared not one to see;
One too many nightmares she has seen
To be still too scared and flee.
Her dagger mirrored the mirthless moonlight
As plunged I into the trees
To leave unsaved a lovelorn soul
To the hands of tears that would not cease.
When there I returned at the coming of day
Still I was a bit afraid
I came back with the picture of horror
Upon my heart that she has made.
I saw her lay on the undergrowth
Pale, and as if in prayer, upon her knee;
But in her bloody bosom, still eyes I knew
That she is, at long last, free.
YOU ARE READING
Messages from My Soul
PoetryA collection of poems, essays, reflections, and short stories I hope you'll enjoy. ---Israel/deathstarhunter
