The injustice of this bit deep
Into her consciousness
Quite illogical to be so disadvantaged
A rough night....

Another death
That spelt failure in another case
Stripped by the willow
Serene in her calling.....

Secure in her sanatorium
Her slumber were as troubled
As those of Shakespeare’s King Richard the third
The night before the battle of Bosworth Field ...

Night wore on
Noises died down
As she sought some sleep
Quite the sensation....

That came between
A perfect repose
Heaven only knew
Then near darkness
Other disturbance emanating
With no flashing lights
She was playing on the wing
She was sure about that now....

She was bolted into the room’
As the Taurus had been shot down
With her unborn child
Playing on her mind
Diagonally in the dark
Books were everywhere
Notebooks with meaning
Hearts of evil...

He must be very near!
Near in time
Near in distance
Ready comprehension
Was At hand ...

What did he have in mind?
Moving to Milan
The eternal city of life....

If Nero had lived here
The roof terrace
Would be burning ...

What revelations lie ahead?
To our damaged life
Poetic justice
one more time
somehow someway sometime...

Will she live or die?*

Debbie Brooks 2014