A pinprick
Against my skin
Releasing
A red teardrop
Into a vast ocean
Of sorrow.
Washing over me
Like a storm surged tide
Eroding the shorelines
Of my soulscape
With each wave.
Spiralling downwards
Into an endless maelstrom
Of darkness and sadness
That threatens
To overwhelm me
In its vortex.
Struggling
In my fight
To break through
This plastic surface
Of discarded bottles
And other things.
Entangling my limbs
In their ever growing web
Of entrapment
Like a finely spun
Net of hate.
My body
Washed ashore
Like a beached whale
Or dolphin.
Too tired
To continue
In this fight
For life.
As my lifeforce
Bleeds out
Screaming:
"Murderers!"
To no avail.
Therisa © 2017
Author's note: When someone uses terror, as a weapon, we all lose a part of our soul, to these acts of hate. Never, to regain that lost innocence, where love and compassion live, within us. Empowering those, who will hate to fight against hate, as a weapon, like President Trump, proposes, with his travel bans, against select Moslem nations. Especially, after the latest attacks, in England. Totally ignoring the fact, most acts of terror, are committed by native-born citizens.
