There was a gnawing
A growling and clawing
Buried deep within
A cavernous depth
But a dread felt throughout-
Claw marks on ribs
Plunging into lungs,
A beast fed well
Upon fear
And the thoughts of the host
The doubts springing
From a spring hidden within,
Ever flowing with self directed poison,
Where fractions of memories swirl,
Reminders of events
Better left forgotten,
Tossed away or buried deep-
The beast functions well
On limited rest,
Stealing hours from the host
And replacing with scattered memories
Fragments of days passed -
The beast functions well
On malnourished frames
Turning tall strong creatures
Into withering ghosts of
The vibrant souls they once were,
Creating a dissociation with the face
Staring out of mirror,
Morphing into something-
The shadow of the beast,
The embodiment of a disaster walking-
A creature given wide berth-
Followed only by
The fire left in its trail,
The destruction of peace-
Only halted by
The changing of the tides
And a warm hand grasping
Cool fingers close to death,
Yanking back to the present
The soul lost in the abyss.
Katrina Thornley is a nature poet. novelist, and freelance journalist that resides in Rhode Island. She has two poetry collections currently published, a novel, as well as a short story anthology. Her poetry collections "Arcadians: Lullaby in Nature" and "Arcadians: Wooden Mystics" were inspired by a local park and life in her small rural town. You can find them on Amazon now!
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About the Creator
Katrina Thornley
Rhode Island based author and poetess with a love for nature and the written word. Works currently available include Arcadians: Lullaby in Nature, Arcadians: Wooden Mystics, 26 Brentwood Avenue & Other Tales, and Kings of Millburrow.
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Comments (1)
The simple power of touch, to restore to the present, wakefulness, sanity, calm reassurance that we are not lost. We are not alone.