This is my demise

And some they will rise
stake claim, a silent mine,
Me, this is my demise
I hear the shadows call
feel the shroud as it falls
Naked, hiding behind a wall,
scared now to bare
fruit of liberations, share,
how? When I can’t compare.
The wobble of the pedestal
from above, I can only fall
and I slip through the half
truths of your fingers, a
silent implosion lingers.
The bound ascent of waltzing
flirtations,
nullified realisations.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image via wordpress

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