Soft lies are told while dead hearts crawl
through forest caves bejeweled.
The crackle as stick snap underfoot the flame,
scarred flesh buried where eyes cannot see.
An ecstasy of flowing salt
frozen like snow flakes and kept for eternity.
Bruised and broken within.
Struggling sheets of ice slip.
Branches pinned back.
Gasps of wind mocking silence
within the cave unheard.
Beating drums hasten as the scream is sliced short.
Chained to the celebration
on the day you were born.
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A collection of my writing. Your comments and editorial suggestions are greatly appreciated.
If you would like to hire me to write for you, please email pagewright@googlemail.com
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