The bitter winds that harbor phantom dreams
that feed the captured fiends that stop the flow—
With taloned hands the mind cannot perceive
if frost or lack of blood has brought the cold
to offer us a tightness in the chest.
Where drums of War that pound inside the head
have failed to calm the beast inside your breast
that brings a heart to wishing for it's death.
And yet an icebound death just wouldn't do—
To vanquish all the demons no one sees—
Whose piercing claws present an honest truth
by finding that the pain is what we need
to overcome the sorrows that may thrive
and let us know through pain that we're alive.
Copyright © 2022 By Keith E. Sparks Jr.
First Appeared in Impspired Magazine...
Shadowfall.