Pull

By Morning Star – April 2024 (Refined)

Colours burn into my mind—
Twisting, turning, open wide.
Rain is beating in the heart,
Like tears of years,
untold,
apart.

Hoping someone soon will come,
Hold the sword,
Bring the sun—
Take away the shadows there,
Pull me from their angry glare.

Soft,
The hare runs swiftly by,
Rushing toward the open sky.

The deer—
Too scared to move—
While hunters loom,
And swords pursue.

Little one has found a dream—
To captivate,
To stop the scream.
She reaches out,
And with his light,
She steps into
a new,
bright life.

But anchors tight
still pull her back.
She fights—
She braves
the open crack.

Yet still she hears
the voice,
the chill.
The evil—
broken—
heavy,
still.

It calls.
And no one comes.
And no one will—
Not while storms
are crashing
through.