The steeple's bell
ringing ominously in the distance.
So far yet so close,
resounding inside of my throbbing head.
bare feet brushed in earth crust and moss
dragging themselves over the wet grass,
body stuck in a mechanical forward motion,
having given up
on breaking through the thick ice now encasing her rotting bones.
Onward and onward,
toward the never ending bell.
Eyes pale and absent from vision,
she stomps on and on.
A wicked attraction
to that Godforsaken bell,
forcing itself from side to side
atop a burning prison of religion.
She opens her frosty,
melting mouth,
unable to speak truth
or reach her own thoughts-
she brays out quietly,
like that of a sheep.
Mindlessly her numb body
continues to follow the clanging of the bell.
Hearing only a glorious sound
to guide her in a world of dark,
foolishly braying her heart out to what she cannot see,
too frozen and numb to feel
the scorching flames
licking at her feet,
engulfing her,
enjoying her,
kindly leaving,
only her crisp ears
to hear the bell's final toll.