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Apr 2018
I thought at first it was a dream,
A figment of a hope starved mind,
When through the darkness scythed a beam
And with it voices warm and kind.


A narrow band of pure white light
Shone down upon my squinting soul,
Illuminating left and right
The human squalor of the hole.


I felt my heart leap in my chest,
A flood of tears streamed down my face,
Too many days I’d been a guest
Trapped in this god forsaken place.


With heavy legs I tried to stand,
My half clothed body stained with blood,
But failing strength forced me to land
Head first into the thick black mud.


I crawled on all fours screaming shrill,
My hellish ordeal almost done,
Please do not end this rescue till
You find my boy, my captor’s son.
Adam Latham
Written by
Adam Latham  Stoke-on-Trent
(Stoke-on-Trent)   
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