PULSE

 
Thunder grey was the feeling left in her mind
 Dead leaves with thorny vines
Suffocating and gasping the air she breathed

Her emotions had imploded
 Leaving trails of snarled thoughts
and
scarcely located pulses of light of what was once her life

Crawling throughout the carnage of cruel intent
 Razors thin cuts of malevolence
Willing herself towards the first pulse she could reach

Pulling the chains of courage along with her
she captured the first pulse and fed it to the throne of her soul
The only place indestructible and starving


She gravitated to another pulse of light and others in the sky of her life
Finality comes with each piece captured
Tattered and reborn
For her soul was always hers to master