Empty
Souls,
Torn, worn,
Patched, and mended.
Bears the weight of silence,
In it’s weakened state,
Fear moves in
Like a silent disease,
It’s too weak to fight.
The cracks grow visible,
It’s leaking, weeping.
Fading
Empty
Dawn Illsley
This WordPress.com site is about life in knitting, music, books, food, and poetry
Dawn's Chronicles 