Dear Readers
I wish to explain this poem. It is not about suicide or self harm. It is not about me. It was written about the death of king on the battlefield in the middle ages. The pictures that come from this for me are powerful and dark, but not of that nature. Annie.
Salvation
Around, all around, the memories gather
My joy grows, as the hand of fate
Falls against my naked soul
It smites me, and warmly, my essence slips
To the wicked earth that is my prison
In rising wonder, I call your name
While oblivion surrounds me
My words fall upon unhearing ears
Around, all around, the mourners gather
The stroke of death falls against my heart
It wounds me, and darkly my life’s blood drips
To the heaped, despairing leaves
In my desire and hope, I raise my eyes to heaven
While the end looms
Now released, my soul falls upon eternity
This is my salvation
© Ann Bagnall 2015.
wow – very touching and exceptional!
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