POETRY

Plea in the Dark

A poem whispered in silence

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Each word fell on closed doors.
The deafening screams in silence,
the heart bared its desperate need —
still was not enough.

The plea for the slightest glimmer of comfort
just couldn’t breach this door.

Surrendered all wanderings,
to devote all woven threads,
just to lift the veil of guilt slightly over to rest.

Clutching my pride amongst the palms,
the knees weighed on the ground —
all to be greeted by the cloaked abyss.

Now the act of prayer feels like a sin,
stung like betrayal,
with the scent of despair.