The Splintered Door
The Splintered Door
She shed but one cold tear.
The splintered door slammed
shrieking on its twisted hinges-
aftermath of “loving’s” binges.
The tear hung over a life
squandered on hopeful lies.
Death’s whimper crept across her smile.
How had her independence turned servile?
This frozen tear became
a memoried amulet
protecting her form torments
she fled - yet can’t forget.
The tear contains the sounds
of footsteps in the dark,
a weeping heart imprisoned
in an ever present threat.
Fear’s haunting clink on crystal glass
an icy heart cold breathing near
gasping on fate’s fatal twist.
She shed but one cold tear.
The splintered door slammed.
John G. Lawless
©10/23/2017
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2017
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