Ruins

Sweating, thrashing, gasping, rolling in my sleep

Painted in my dreams, a picture

Of a young girl, just fourteen.

She is covered well in sheep's wool

A leather bound coat, the size of three.

But it isn't snowing, it is scolding,

It almost feels too hot to breathe. 

She is running, she is gasping 

The air around her feels too tight

But her mother's mitten gloves seem to fit her hands just right.

She wears a scarf made from a t-shirt, the only thing that she could find 

To protect her from the dangers of what awaited her outside.  

It is dark, overcasting, a shadow quite like night.

Thick robust clouds of ashes make for a eery, vacant sky. 

She holds one hand inside another, and for a moment she just dreams 

Of her mother's hand inside hers as she is running to be free. 

She collapses at the edge of ruins, down onto her hands and knees 

In a still standing, oak forest, where she hears a distant stream 

Her legs feel just like hot weights, she breathes deep and cannot move 

For the agony behind her was too violent to consume. 

She closes her eyes, just briefly, but falls quickly into sleep 

She dreams deeply,

of days of sunshine ,

of her mother's sweet warm tea,

of the smiles of all her siblings,

and of the place she used to be... 

free.  

Reviews

[ayesha gupta]

i like reading it. nice imaginary.

[RaeStems]

Thank you so much :P

[Geo Lawrence]

am in love with this poem

[RaeStems]

Thank you! :)