Inside The Unknown

You cannot know what these walls
contain; a simple structure; small
in stature, strong at heart.

Pebble-dashed walls never seem
to age yet, everything inside is dying.

You could open doors and find
nirvana. Hushed halls lead
to rooms of requirement

filled with silence. A serene
atmosphere with no clue
who lives here.

Or, you’d be met with storm.
Wind-whipped as you walk
inside. shell-shocked, air thicker

than mud. Pain paints walls
in a full-blown torrent. Words
slash flesh looking for a reaction.

A roulette it may be. Dangerous,
to some. To others, a haven.

To us, it is home. In all states
of disquiet, calm or torturous
riot. It is ours and all that we are.


 ~The H Word~

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

A Website.

Up ↑

Wendy Pratt

Poet, Author, Editor, Facilitator

Inking Prose & Poetry

The Art of Prose and Poetry

Fevers of the Mind

Writing, Poetry, Short Stories, Reviews, Art Contests

UHI Blog | Bloga UHI

Where learning means more | Far a bheil ionnsachadh a’ ciallachadh barrachd

%d bloggers like this: