Still, My World

Submitted by Damaris Ann on Tue, 10/29/2019 - 15:43

Oh, the world is dark
The storm within is raging, rushing
Lighting strikes, but lends no light
And night is bleaker with its hit
Fog and mist rise ‘round the tree-trunks
Binding still the black to night
And with its ever-reaching fingers
Steals the hope of daybreak’s joy
But from the mountains creeps a promise
Light has flown across the sky
And reaching here you see it’s figure
A winged being, petite and fair
She stands there quietly, ethereal
And in her eyes there shines the Hope

The Cloak

Submitted by Damaris Ann on Tue, 10/29/2019 - 15:35

Invisibility is a choice, but it’s not an easy one.

It is a heavy cloak; warm and comforting, though dark and worn. Once it’s been pulled on and clasped about the shoulders it’s difficult to slip it off and let it sink down into the floor, clouding your ankles and disappearing forever. For, once it’s taken off, it can never be put back on again. One admission; one second of bravery imprisons you in a permanent lack of protection from the judgement being cast by the outside world, and very few are comfortable with that alternative.