deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Bitter Reality
Slender beams of cold moonlight enter
this darkened prison as I kneel,
always somber, always alone,
frozen here,
waiting.
Accusing forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust gathers in the air,
forming an image of vile complexity and suffering in my mind,
reaving my exposed soul and bled dry.
A reflection on my face.
I raise my head, now railing against
this uncaring reality.
this darkened prison as I kneel,
always somber, always alone,
frozen here,
waiting.
Accusing forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust gathers in the air,
forming an image of vile complexity and suffering in my mind,
reaving my exposed soul and bled dry.
A reflection on my face.
I raise my head, now railing against
this uncaring reality.
Published 23rd Sep 2011
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