House of Scars
On sullen days
when none know your name
you go down to the house of scars
a trigger pulls
and the trap-door slams
you are snared in the house of scars
you hear the ghosts
whisper broken tales
from the times they would roar and shout
you see them dig
long forgotten lies
trying hard to heap fear on doubt
you feel their chains
try to hold you down
as you fight to find your way out
your way back home
is a trembling path
that begins on your bleeding knees
until the sun
lifts your grateful eyes
to believe what the true light sees.
30/11/24
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Comments2
past trauma fighting its way to the surface, but you've been there before and are stronger,
beautiful poem, thank you for the write!
Tremble we may but there is a path that won’t dismay. Somehow hearing a nudge to take the good along with the bad and keep trudging forward. In the end it is uplifting, emerging. Thanks Frasmac 🙏🏻
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