Home to Glory

Oh, but ice cold is this day
On which your soul flies away
As I stand in the scourging sun
I am frozen
I am numb
Fly away, away from here
Sweat dripping from my frozen temple
I freeze in that June breeze
The body is down
But the soul is up
Fly away, away from here
Try as I may
To wipe tears away
But they keep flowing
All down my face
Fly away, away from here
You beautiful soul


Anya Harris
(January, 2015-June, 2015)

Reviews

[Sharon L.H. Kelly]

This write has lyrical sound to it. I like your comparisons and contrasts, ie: scourging sun - frozen numb. The grief and sorrow is palpable in this well done write.

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Too be crippled by such words..yet know that one is never able to claim the right to truly understand what a person in this situation has churning inside...makes one wonder if the strength of the person who survives such an ordeal can ever be measured. Powerful.

[EMMIE]

Thank you...means a lot!

[Bare trees]

The cold here means shock to me which would make sense. You delve deep with this one, sharing the incredible sorrow and grief.