it doesn't have to rhyme, Uncategorized, Word Stories

Apple

She was deep in sleep

as if she had taken a bite of that apple

you know the one i’m talking about

the one that the darkness lured her with

like the glitter and gold

the newer and better

all that shines

so bright it blinds

our perfectly working eyes

to follow it closely

the fragrance

the smell

that disguises the hell

it leads us to

the slaughter

we can’t refuse

but we don’t have to

there’s one who takes our place

at the front of the line

standing face to face

with our hell

to let us go free

her eyes open slowly

then grow big and wide

she looks down at that apple

and tosses it aside.

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Word Stories

restore

by: dreamer is my middle name

I could not sleep. Tossing and turning I keep looking out my window to see if there is any sign of light. When is the sun going to come out?

Finally light. Not very much of it, but enough for it to be morning. Quietly I got dressed and snuck out of the house filled with peaceful sleepers.

My pace increasing as I walked, I couldn’t contain my urgency. Running as fast as I could on the rough terrain I slipped on a rock and fell. My hands and knees stripped of their skin, but had no bearing on my travel.

Sandals covered in dirt, sprinkled with blood from my wounds, I slowed my movement, for I had finally arrived. My heart thumping and my breath as if it had run out, I fell to the ground.

On my knees weeping, I see two pierced feet walk up to me. His pierced hands reach for mine and pull me into a warm embrace.

My hope is restored.

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