Tiny Whispers
by Tricia
With shattered images I purge demons through my flesh,
unseen behind a glass wall
I quiver.
Breathing--
daggers fill my lungs.
Tiny whispers to God,
barely audible I cry out.
Falling faster as I descend,
Fire scourges my delicate skin.
Fading into silent screams of insanity my body and soul melt into one.
Torn and battered,
my wings are broken and decayed…
I reach for salvation.
Faceless hands touch my soul.
Cold darkness surrounds an unknown existence.
Frozen dreams,
Innocence abandoned…
I play the game:
Hell’s blaze
or
Heaven’s soft asylum?
An assault upon the spirit:
One step in and ready to run.
A sweet abandonment with selfish excitement.
My demons flutter in…