Are all the tears that burn her eyes
resulting from the blinding light
of apparitions seen at night?
But why should phantoms so despise
this soul submerged in tortured cries,
her pain their absolute delight.
Their violence left her spirit weak.
Relentless thrusts with angry sword
made helpless fear their great reward.
Through muffled sobs, she dared not speak.
The prospects for escape were bleak,
her prayers for rescue went ignored.
Responding to their midnight crimes,
awake, she died a thousand times.
© Susan Schoeffield
I’m engaging my more solemn side with today’s daily poem. A Facebook friend recently posted that someone he knew had committed suicide. Depression is a serious illness and when someone is its prisoner, it becomes life-threatening.