STALACTITES

I have tread through
these dark halls before
feelings etched like
cave paintings
upon the soul

loose footing
on sharp stones.
Cold words
hang like stalactites

a trip against the will
against the comforts
of joy

holding hands may be
paired toward stability,
If only part way

but a journey we must
tread for the most part...

Quiet and alone.

Reviews

[Susan Beth Horvath]

Grooving with emotion and passion!