It burdens in shadows and dark
In quiet whisps it speaks
Careful now not to alarm
Though this damage has incredible reach
Spurned from knotted guts and twists
In heart it is born-
In heart it shifts
Quiet now not to disturb it
For in quiet disguise it moves and lives
To stop before...
To stop and yet...
This catastrophic sense of limbo widens
Bordering Heaven and Hell
What shall we make of it?
What shall this burden represent?
Will it signal our rise or our inevitable conquest?
Shakes the will of the mind
Forged in stupor stupid and yet everso sweet
Deranged twitches the untrained eye
While the mouth fails at all to speak.
Copyright © Bianca Jones