Nightmare

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It’s a bit late, I know, but I am participating in NaPoWriMo this month (just remembered it was THIS month – AK!) and today’s prompt is the “golden shovel,” a form that begs you to take the last word from a known poem and make it the last word of your own. Kudos to those who can guess which I decided to use – it is by far one of my favorites.

 

Wretched wraiths of night

come as sheets of rain
clawing, dragging me from the light
as I trek across Heaven’s lane
upon my back their fists do beat
I beg why, yet they don’t explain
thorns tear and rend my naked feet
sore I ache, but for the pain I do not cry
rather for the emptiness of this street
no one to take me in or say good-bye
I call to the Moon in Her lofty height
call down Her power from the sky
begging Her to make this evening right
to chase away the wretched wraiths of night

©2014 Spiritwind Studios

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