Fireflies in the Attic

As I listen to the echoesof stolen withered truths,

the whispers creakthrough moments in a solitary tune.

The walls are stainedwith madness, a harrowing decay,

The silence plays amelody, a traumatic price to pay.

The shadows of theirnightmares dance across the floors,

crimson stainsseeping, through haunting wooden boards.

Prisons come in manyforms, but all oppress and capture,

the light that dancesin their hearts, the innocence of rapture.

 

Like firefliesdancing in the light, before their glow is ended,

their delicate andchildhood hearts were broken for forever.

Corpses lie forgottenin the innocence of dreams,

black holes replacinglaughter – motives change beliefs.

The arrogance ofwisdom biased to invoke us,

experience setsexample, without a moral focus,

the bonds betweenthem broken by the twisted words then spoken.

years of torture andbrutality,

found the peace intheir finality,

tormented actionscame to cease,

the fireflies nowrelieved,

 


Comments:
 
OneVoice   OneVoice wrote
on 5/16/2013 12:55:16 PM
The ebb and flow of your very descriptive literary journey serve pleasant distraction amid the day’s monotony

Roxanna
Poetry
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writing Roxanna
Unable are the Loved To Die For Love is Immortality!
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Synopsis
My new poetry book's title poem...
A Word from the Writer
The loss of childhood
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