The Turning Tables

And there it was, my uncanny damnation. With big black eyes and an eerie 
grin upon the face of evil. My soul torn from It's owner to Him that feeds. To 
whom that starves. My bones begin to tremble and my strength seems to 
render; but for my soul, is not yet taken. I hold my own, for it is I, that is all is 
left. My damnation has all but taken me alive, but not I will it take 'til there is 
nothing but air to find.
     As his smirk finds new growth, laughter roars from below my feet. Bones 
begin to break, strength is on a string; but for I who's uncanny predicament 
unfolds, I laugh just as so in fear. A grumble from down within grows stronger 
and louder until the very fate of death had turned. Turned upon my enemy. I take 
back what was once mine; Breakable bones that can repair, a soul that'll always 
care, and a fighter that never failed. All, all are mine.

-Halie
7-6-14
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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A   Avatar
May 13, 2016 at 11:53 PM
haile, Fantastic writing, glad to read your poem tonight. Forever ~LINDA~
A  Avatar
May 12, 2016 at 9:40 AM
Halie, creative and well done. Thank you for sharing. **SKAT**
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