Her words calmly stated
reveal her willingness to leave
the circle of safety,
the heritage of love,
to step through the door into
the void where death lies
disguised as freedom.
With blind determination
she sweeps aside the Sacrifice
and shuts out pleas for reason.
My soul rips…
A scream launches from
somewhere deep inside
and flies into eternity.
The scream goes on
and on as if driven by
an endless exhale.
It feels like
a wound unhealing,
mourning unending
for this beautiful soul,
born from mine,
now captured by a lie.
This feels like hell laughing
while heaven is silent.
And I am still screaming inside,
a sound of pain inconsolable,
of hope unattainable,
of anguish so deep and encompassing
that peace eludes my cry.
Yet, other souls wait for
help, and hope, and heaven
and my pouring out…
How do I find my own way?
Whose hands will pour
the ointment to restore
that which is running dry
as it gushes from a leak
wrought by pain unspeakable?
I wait…
Sometimes a soldier must be carried
Out of the battle zone.
©Janet McDonald
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