Cara's Panic

Winds rage, 

her thoughts caged. 

Poor little Cara, oh how hard she fights. 

Her thoughts cloud her vision, 

her senses spark her superstition. 

Fighting words, faces, sights, and smell, 

she finds it hard to those to dwell. 

Unaware of her surroundings she fights. 

The sun over and the moon now, 

she races on and bows into the dreams-cape in which she is plunged. 

Twisted threats, smashed sights, freaky frights,

and yet, it will not light.

As a plant infects with blight, so does Cara and her sight. 

She sees only what she fears and what she endears. 

Oh poor little Cara, how hard she fought. 

But now she trots as anyone would have thought. 

She is free from the thoughts once again, but for how long, is not sought.  

Reviews

[Nisreen]

I guess trauma like everything else in life has a healing time
Nothing rational would come out of a brain that us experiencing pain .....