From My Diary: Introspection
This day so historically malevolent
I seemed to have died within my soul
As a pray to the clouds, though they
Are dark and crossing the line of death
I see the passing of my soul unto the
Realms of her hands, beating me with
Her significant scythes and touches me
With the eyes of hatred, only protruded
When life seems to end, and the soul
Is emptied unto the heartless, where battles
Have been lost for decades, I fathom
Nothing more than her touch, cold, iron
Breaching touch of hatred, lashing upon
My loss: loss of power, loss of hope
Loss of any shining entities to enter my
Thrown soul, tossed into the pit of misery
Where she stirs it like a cauldron, placing
My tenderness into spasms of fear and
Death upon every level, now she sees my
True self, exposed, and so filled with love
That she has missed throughout her life
Now burning within the chasm of hatred!
Entered into the contest "From My Diary," of Broken Wings
Written: 2 November 2017
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