It slithers in as
Snakes mating pain,
Breeding this labyrinth of
No way out of this writhing mass,
This mass, secreting away Light.
This pain, eating the Light,
Our stars of many colors,
Forced as lanterns for
The rising heads of the serpents, or
Our souls, are they in formation
To defeat the onslaught?
Pain, this confused muddle
In the line of the Fire of the stars,
Blazing through the delirium,
The Light in the void,
The Fire in the pit,
Consuming the venom.
Copyright © 2017/10/10 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com
Image: © Martha Harris (my sister) See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog