By brian francis
Eyes aglow in the night
reflecting the terror within,
Gasps, from horrors unseen.
Guilt, for the lessons of sin.
Tears, welled together to stream,
pool in the sandman’s lair.
A whimper, in the darkness of night,
ending a whispered prayer.
Scars, from the tortures of “love.”
Pain, in the heart and the mind.
Obedient, and still – a rag doll;
fear is the shackles that bind.
Copyright © 2021 brian francis
Wordsmith: At The Forge 