What words would you have me say?
to him, her, they
sitting lifeless on rock, dirt and beach
I should blow the conch shell to summon
and speak
to the breeze, the sea or the parrots squawking in the coconut trees
What would you have me say…
to the Quarry wearing shrouds
waiting
waiting
waiting
Prey, who shun the light
and ache for moonless black
watching
anxiously waiting to pound out
the slightest flicker of
whatever
where ever lest it
lures
entices
beckons
the Reapers into their graveyards of Kunai, Sago Palms and bush rope.
____________
Fear – the unseen Prison and Warden.
WORDS FROM MY SOUL 