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Jan 2019
Pain, like a molten sword,
burns on the flesh of my heart.

Once again, it’s been wielded,
tearing a hole into my unprotected soul.

I am drowning in the blackness,
of its grasp on me.

I lift my prayers to the heavens
to give me strength of spirit,

and wisdom to find the path
to escape its mighty grip.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Vicki Kralapp
Written by
Vicki Kralapp  Oshkosh
(Oshkosh)   
528
 
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