DEJECTED

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

A rotating prison…
This desolate dungeon,
All the while my smile,
Creating illusion.
Slurry speech tongue heavy,
Sun rising already,
Dismal road toting load,
Bag of woes I carry.
Isolated corner,
Not one clue or answer,
Yet you dare say you care,
In bleakest hemisphere…
Don’t come with the weight of judgement,
Cause I have no room left to spare.

No prismatic rainbow…
Golden petals in sight,
Amidst the flight of night,
Journey in black and white.
Palpitations and sweat,
Alter ego a threat,
Breath of air a nightmare,
Solitude and regret.
Engulfed in morbid fear,
My flesh I cannot wear,
Yet you dare say you care,
In dreary atmosphere…
Don’t come with the weight of judgement,
Cause I have no room left to spare.

(c) Monica St Hillaire.

SANCTUM

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

There is that space,

Between dream and reality,

Where you get to float.

Soar without ceasing,

Weight not in existence,

And timeless is the glow.

Free of mystery,

Unbound to burdens.

To shun,

The abyss of the night;

The labyrinth of the day…

Let not your,

Inner being thirst.

Seize your haven!

Your realm is real.

Yes…

Between the charcoal dusk,

And the ember dawn,

Embrace your moment.

However miniscule,

It is where,

Euphoria thrives.

(c) Monica St Hillaire.

HOUSE OF PAIN…

photo from Pixabay

How heavy is a heartbreak?
Is the burden immense in degree?
The air I breathe is so constricted.
My heart feels suppressed,
Not by my own free will.
This all commenced the day,
You walked out of my life.
My colorless days,
Conjoin my sleepless nights.
A damp pillow tells a somber story,
Of a heart that aches,
And a soul that weeps...
Out of left field, nowhere to turn,
You left me like a sleuth.
But my judgement was clouded,
As grey skies hang overhead
- my head.
Time my only confidant,
I trust to take things in stride.
May this pain devalue,
With each passing day.
May I grow and learn;
Walk a road of no return.
Acknowledge what stands before me,
Accept what cannot be reversed.
I will press on.
Such an extraordinary contrast,
Of someone walking into your life.
To someone walking out...

The chronicles continue.


(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2020.