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Poem

Molten lava spews from my eyes
My mouth feels dry as the scorching desert
Fear, like an unyielding boulder lies on my chest 
My heart chases after the wayward wind
A pit is forming in my stomach,
My head is riding upon a vortex
Conflicting thoughts swirling through my mind
forming a surrealistic whirlpool,
And I stand rooted to the ground
like the Ancient Oak.
A sense of emptiness mushrooms within me
like morning miasma obscuring visibility,
My past dusted off into oblivion
Every moment henceforth is 
pregnant with novel challenges,
Tackling a new task overwhelms me
and despair pervades my soul undeterred—  
Bond by fate
Tethered to faith,
Laden feet, I am getting
mired deep in a spiritual quagmire
unable to claw my way up to Mount Calvary.


~09/26/21
~Contest: "Q" (Quagmire) 
~Sponsor: Constance La France.

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