It comes baring gifts
the loneliness of abandonment
death, the ultimate end
faced by the living
who are born to die.
The fear of the journey
to the unknown
grips me with a strangle hold---
I struggle to be free.
The icy fingers
bear into my being
like jagged tenticles
driven by sly energies.
Freedom comes
at last, smiling
worn and easy
and I slip into
the transfiguration
safely.
Posted By: Thomasena Martin-Johnson
Wednesday, October 27th 2010 at 3:41PM
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