Dark clouds loom beyond battered mountains,
cracking sounds seep through broken walls
and murmuring voices echo near and far.
We did not know where to begin,
but I had a strong feeling that we would win.
We leaped through block doors,
trampling on broken glasses,
tearing down make shift barricades,
busting wires fences,
bulldozing fortified doors,
and chiseling sealed up walls.
Our stricken faces dented with anguish,
broken voices crackle with fear,
spilling unbridled emotions in the atmosphere.
Smoldering petrol engulfed the air
while tears of joy flow without control.
We journey through dark tunnels,
broken bridges and rocky mountains,
cutting and clearing the bushy path,
until we finally made the mark.
One chance, one dip
we broke the glass ceiling with a mystical pick.
©2013 Christine Phillips