Writing on the Wall
She slept on puddled water that smelled like rain
Wounded, bleeding and starving, yet she felt no pain.
Time seemed endless; the only indication of day was the dim window's light;
There was no sound, no bell, no watch, no clock to strike at midnight.
With passing time, her soul hardened as her mind purified
Alone, with thoughts of her own demise, made her feel afraid, petrified.
Crumbling against the corner of the wall waiting to be fed
She could almost hear a clock ticking in her head
But even with all her sadness, there were no tears to be shed.
To stay sane she knew she would have to mentally fight
Because without confronting the darkness she knew one could never see the light.
Copyright © 2014 Tomitheos PICTURE POETRY - All Rights Reserved
Writing on the Wall
She slept on puddled water that smelled like rain
Wounded, bleeding and starving, yet she felt no pain.
Time seemed endless; the only indication of day was the dim window's light;
There was no sound, no bell, no watch, no clock to strike at midnight.
With passing time, her soul hardened as her mind purified
Alone, with thoughts of her own demise, made her feel afraid, petrified.
Crumbling against the corner of the wall waiting to be fed
She could almost hear a clock ticking in her head
But even with all her sadness, there were no tears to be shed.
To stay sane she knew she would have to mentally fight
Because without confronting the darkness she knew one could never see the light.
Copyright © 2014 Tomitheos PICTURE POETRY - All Rights Reserved