Poetry

Torment

I lay my heart upon the sacrificial stone,
with friends and family around me,
yet undeniably alone.
I plead my bleeding heart
to still the thoughts at play,
without a voice
that makes the choice,
to keep the demons at bay.
My disillusioned soul fights through inner night,
the massacred self,
keeping out the sacred light.
The ritual of denial in some secret sought out place,
leaves an open wound,
a heart beating in disgrace.

©LMS

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