Crucified, vilified her faith eroded,
heeding the call of the open road .
To be pushed over the precipice
exiled from all memory, trees exploding
A mist from under the pond .
An exercise in innocence.
Sensual lips , a tramp tattoo .
An ancient haunted terrified voice .
Confessional silence, more smoke than flames .
A journey , searching ,stretching through the ages .
A stand of trees in a yellow meadow.
holding a profound message
guiding her life .
Tiny leaves sing shadows
across a sunlit Doe .
Sparks arise ashes fall
thrones and needles
thrust in blood .
Someone ,
sometime
somewhere
will see her heart
and know her truths .
Perhaps in the sanctuary
of the cool dark
mountain air .
-
Author:
WL (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 26th, 2024 22:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments2
Powerful work.
That sanctuary is there for us all Bill.
Andy
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