Broken, Crumbling inside. Black Iris in hand. Here in the Witch Light of day. Remember all our yesterday’s. Could this be a nightmare? Darkness is dawning, without your embrace to keep it at bay. Will the pain fade? My heart grows cold; I am strangely numb. Yet I linger, still searching, every face looking for yours. Will the pain fade? Rain begins to fall, as I turn. Hurt, holds me captive. I still search for you around every corner. In the Witch Light, this could be a garden, were it not for, row after row of standing stones. 25 lines second place in the "Shadows and Light A Contest" in June of 2009. The prompts used were "Witch light" and "Black Iris". |