Tuesday, November 23, 2010

a poem

Written Oct 31, 2008

Alone in darkness she patiently waits,
for captors with knives and evil with pain.
No glimmer of light will come to her aid,
rusted shackles cling to frail arms in chains.

Grit covers floors while water seeps down walls.
The stench of mildew still lingers around.
Critters watch her with glassy eyes like dolls.
She cries out in pain and prays to be found.

Here they come with their blades, and whips, and spikes,
Satan’s silent sentries, juggling death’s flame.
Suffering in their wake--they are black knights
stopping at nothing to play their cruel game.

Alone she cries out from dark prison walls.
Lifting her voice, to Lord Jesus she calls.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

ummm...that was...interesting
wasn't expecting something so dark from such a bright and happy person

great poem though :)

Rae B said...

lol.
you might be surprised then that I like the darker poetry--but more so when there's a glimmer of hope at the end.

This poem was written for a challenge so I didn't have as much choice with theme.

Things I've learned about France (or at least Normandy)

Well there we go, my second European country. In some ways, very similar to England (a lot of meat and potatoes, fancy churches, pay toilets...