Mr. Cloudy's Shelter
A Place to Listen and be Heard

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Read/Post Comments (3)
Share on Facebook


My chest tightens.
My breath shortens.
My heart palpitates.
My thoughts race.

Running away from something faster.

Trapped between life and death.
Bidding one or the other to come.
Hope betrays and
Faith fails.

And nothing is real except the fear.

And yet the sun creates its crimson curtain,
Signaling the intermission between the days.
And without conquering fear,
Beauty intercedes.

Calling to itself within me.
From grace, to grace.
Its rays bent,
To paint the clouds that once hid it.

Read/Post Comments (3)

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Back to Top

Powered by JournalScape © 2001-2010 All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.