My Soul is a Tomb #poetry #prose

 

My Soul is a Tomb

My soul is a tomb~

Mouldy bones of contention

litter the dusty floors

and congregate in the

murky shadows to avoid

the shards of filtered light

that steal through the gilded

windows,

their arches softly contrasting

the hard lines of mortar and stone.

The faint strain of waltzes

hangs in the stale air like

a fog creeping over the

stormy seas of destiny

My soul is a prison~

Bent cave dwellers make fire

to roast the flesh of dragons

slain by knights on white steeds

deep within the forests ruled 

by ancient faeries whose 

pixie slaves live among

the thorns in the rose gardens

where children in crisp linen

dresses and cropped breeches

play hide and seek with

the wolf cubs that venture 

into the daylight while the 

elders sleep off the night’s

hungry pillage with the red stain

of the family dog’s blood 

drying on their tongues and 

 dream of being eagles.

My soul is a highway~

paved with yellow brick

and lined with poppies in hues

of crimson, coral and magenta

to soothe the senses of weary travelers 

who journey from rough hewn cradle

to a bed of soft earth, staring at a

flowery epitaph etched in cold marble.

They amble and trot, skip, jump,

Race, fall, dance, trip and crawl

towards the promised land where,

hand in hand, they stand to

face the final judgment.

My soul is a legend

of hunters, servants, kings

and jokers~dancers, builders,

bakers, forsakers and breakers

of hearts, saints and sinners,

losers and winners creating each life

with fresh vigor, new hope and understanding

as they vow to make the next journey

richer than the last~without error

and leaving the terror of it behind

like confetti littering the memory with

 bright distraction-such attraction so

seductive they must return again

…and again.

For the prison can be escaped

and the highway paved with gold,

but the legend will be told in 

what’s writ upon the walls within 

the tomb.

Copyright Cheryl Pennington

2023