Fear doesn’t know
if she’s coming or going.
She knows she’s on track
for destruction.
Where there’s a track,
there’s a train.
She knows she’s on board
with a ticket to nowhere,
where nowhere
must end at a cliff.
She reaches invisible
arms to the heavens,
where angels ignore
her last fall.
published in Entropy
featured in Moonwashed Doings -- Coming or Going Wrap-Up:
Bang! That hard hitting style I really like of yours, if I can permit myself to admit I feel somewhat acquainted to your poetry....
Really like this, and it resonates professionally...I agree very much, of course the antidote is love.
The wifi is so slow at this place I am in temporarily to recuperate, Very troublesome. So if this is the last comment it is because of that. I am really enjoying your poetry very much, at all different levels and I'm sure I fnd it very therapeutic as well if I thought about it.