Running away

The moon watches over my night’s journey,
Heather clad hills roll on,
The sky as black as coal sparkling with mineral flecks, Trees whisper to each other plotting my course, Ghosts of my past come raging and uncontrolled,
Out of the night air on swirling black clouds of hopelessness, My life for all its years packs in to a single car, Trying to out run these apparitions that trouble me, Haunting my days one after another,
Leading me to this eventual despair,
In the mirror I see,
They gain on me mile by mile,
Finding me again,
Am I unable to out run these spirits?
My speed increases,
Trees, fields and hills now just a blur,
And still they gain,
Faces covered in dark musky shrouds,
Skeletal hands supporting long sharp talons,
Once again to score and furrow my mortal flesh,
To tear and torture my frail mind,
Whispering to me of loss and pain,
Insane laughter as I writhe and twist,
Agonising through every moment of the day,
Never to be silenced or misplaced,
The blackened sky now with streaks of deep red, Night gives way to dawn,
Slowly not wanting to relinquish,
It’s grip over the land slowly disappearing,
Deep scarlet giving way to deep oranges,
To warming golden tones, Life wakes around me,
Birds sing me good morning,
And just for a moment lost,
The world in all its beauty embraces me,
Warm and tender as its touch,
Pain gone and troubles forgot,
And in this moment of oneness with life,
My guard dropped leaving me vulnerable and defenceless, They pounce to remind me,
Burning in to me searing and uncontrollable, My running over,
Now just to be overrun once again,
They whisper to me in a gurgling sigh, Breath of something long dead hangs on the air, You can run is the message,
You can hide,
But never from yourself.

.50 caliber Bullet pen. More at Bespoke Woods Facebook page.

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