Vicious Cycle

The church bells rang a hollow echo.
She is on her knees
praying to a god she does not
believe. Lack of faith.

In the shadows, the sunlight a faded background,
she points a gun to her head.
Her hand is steady though her
mind runs wild like the sea in the midst of storm.

Quiet seeps into the foreground.
Like a cross held high to the sun,
blinding, the only truth that is real.
She breathes alone, feeling surreal.

The rosary hangs limply across her neck.
It feels more like a binding string,
chocking her love for life
as she crosses off each numbered days.

Time ticks till darkness emerge.
By now her mind is calm. Cold,
her hands shaking she pulls the trigger.
The church bells rang a hollow echo.

– e.s.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s