Dark Place
- Debra Nordyke
- May 3
- 1 min read
Tears ducts barren,
mind, an arid parched land,
this is mental illness,
depression.
A world
no one can see,
like marrow
that fills my bones.
Alone
in this dark place
no light
no window…no door.
No tears will drip
to wet the ground
of this inner dungeon,
demons torture,
set fires of pain,
scorched thoughts permeate,
lifeless and brittle.
Pathways upward gone.
When tears are dry,
the abyss is…near
I am forever blind,
dead and shattered soul
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