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Tale Weavers: Fiction – Your Flamhsures are Showing #fiction #amwritimg #taleweavers 


To begin with I want share with you an amazing blog post from the writer Kristen Lamb. I would have rebogged,  it was not able to so here is the link to one of her latest posts called Shame, Shame, We Know Your Name — Or Do We? Shame in Fiction. If you are fiction writer it’s a great piece on how shame motivates most characters in many stories and novels. Also follow her blog: Kristen Lamb Author, Blogger, Social Media Jedi for practical and honest advice on writing. 

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Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Tale Weavers writing prompt. Today’s prompt is to write making sense of ‘Nonsense’ and use the word flamhsures in a poem or story as a verb or a noun. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie – Michael 

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“You can’t go to school with your flamhsures showing,” Mina told her young son Todd. 

He looked at her and rolled his eyes. For an eight-year old he had become too cool for his parents. It seemed to Mina that kids were growing up so fast these days and that it was a shame they were. 

Mina watched Todd from the front door as he walked to bus to attend third grade. She sighed knowimg how embarrassed Todd would be as his flamhsures were still visible. 

She knew the other kids would make fun of Todd at school for this so Mina quickly walked to the end of her driveway yelling: “Todd come back here a moment. I need to ask you something.” 

Todd turned his head a moment and rolled his eyes at Mina. She dreaded the day that lay before him. She knew Todd arrive home upset and tearful. Mina wondered if he would still let her comfort him or if he would run to his room and yell at her after his bad day. 

In some ways he was no different than his father Thomas when he was in a bad mood. Mina loved her husband but when he was upset he could be cold and distant. She was afraid that their eight-year old had inherited these traits as opposed to Thomas’s better traits. He was a good Dad and a good husband but just as Mina, Thomas had his faults too. 

When he dropped by home to have lunch with her Thomas excitedly told her about his newest project as an architect and she told him about the latest painting she had been commissioned to do. She also mentioned Todd and his flamhsures showing. 

Thomas smiled, “Todd’s a big boy. He’s almost nine and he has to learn somethings for himself. He may have a terrible day because he didn’t listen to his mother but tomorrow he’ll know better because he’ll have learned.” 

Mina sighed covering her face with her hands, “It’s difficult to think of him as more than the little guy he was such a short while ago. He is still so young and it bothers me that that kids can be so mean to others kids.” 

Thomas comforted Mina holding her close and kissing her softly before heading out the door and back to work. Mina watched Thomas leave, perturbed when she saw his flamhsures were visible too. He didn’t hear her call out as he was already on his phone and back in work mode. 

When Todd came home from school he ran in the door smiling. Mina approached talking to him with care, “It looks like you had a good day Todd? What did you do at school today?” 

Todd rolled his eyes, “Oh the usual. Some math, some writing, gym, and recess. We played soccer at recess I like playing soccer.” 

“That’s good maybe you want to play in the spring and summer again?” 

“Maybe,” Todd says shrugging. “Can I have a snack? Some cookies?” 

“Only if you have some fruit with your cookies. Did anything bad happen today, Todd?”

“Not really, Mom.” 

“Well, I was just wondering because when I called you back from the bus it was because your flamhsures were still showing and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed at school.” 

Todd giggled, “Well I didn’t really notice but then some girl pointed it out and I thought I would get made fun of but then two other boys said their flamhsures were showing too and everyone laughed. Then all the boys made their flamhsures show and we all decided to play soccer.” 

Mina giggled, “Well I’m happy to hear that. Let’s hope your father has a similar good story. He came home for lunch and his flamhsures were visible too as he went back to work. Let’s hope he isn’t embarrassed either.” 

Todd laughed eating his cookie, “Things like that don’t bother men, Mom. Look at me I’m a man and I survived. Dad will be good too.” 

Mina tried to hold back her laughter, “So you’re a man now? Not my little guy, even at home?” 

Todd grinned, “Yep, I’m a man.” 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, San San - abcabdcd - three terms repeat in poem., Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver: Poem – San San – “Sunshine Assured” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver prompt which is based on the sunrise which is the “start of a new day, an indicator of the day ahead. [P]ink sunrise can mean a hot day coming, a new start in life, it represent hope and new possibilities.” 

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Credit: Morepethroad – Michael

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Oh light of hope at this hour dawning

Behind us leaving the dark night dreaming

Dawn swooshes in and the day has purpose.  

Hope our savior never hides as a ‘con.’ 

The night never remains, new day leaning, 

Providing the world, thrilling light concurs. 

Let not night’s dark thoughts in your mind prefer, 

Let hope lead your day, in the sunshine assured

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Event, Fiction, History, La' Tuine - A, B, C, D -last lines all same rhyme for each stanza 9,8,9,8 syllables, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Wrapped Refrain, Writing

Day 26- NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – “Under the Same Moon” #poetry #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #future


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write about wondering what “future archaeologists, whether human or from an alien civilization, will make of us . . . exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.” Thanks to Michael of last week’s Tale Weavers from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie who provided a prompt about the moon. As well for A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s quote the letter today is the letter W. 


The Moon
Credit: Michael – MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie

” . . . All that is now / [a]ll that is gone/ [a]ll that’s to come / and everything under the sun is in tune/ but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

“There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it’s all dark.”
Roger Waters


Gazing into the future, ‘neath a pale moon gleaming bright,

Hard to believe, people who were, saw the same moon’s shining light.

They had houses, electricity.

So many ethnicities.

It’s different now, the gene pool changed,

Those who look unique all estranged.

All look like us, all brown eyes, dark hair, and medium skin too.

I can scarce picture blond, red-haired, green eyes, or eyes so blue.


Genetic defects they called them, so now we’re all plain, the same,

It’s weird to think, they dyed their hair, all colors, none went gray.

How was it to be individual,

Not for the whole good — sacrificial.

What makes a person now is,

Incredibly different knowing this —

Society of people who fell as those before left their cities,

Frames of what once was, rusted metal, not all that pretty.


Their language full of slang, we cannot pin down lingiustics,

Cannot find words, spoken globally, their lyrics I sing.

But their music is strange, listened —

To some and our technology it fits.

Technology they had weird, but we —

Discover strange things, sound gleaned.

Words not understandable but melodies clear and bright,

 Music is forbidden, I sing in secrecy to ancient tunes light.


Some days we watch their stories, their films, when the moon is round.

My favorite days, those brilliant plays, words with lovely sound.

And we find little toys, scrapbooks, phones,

While in the distance the guns drone.

Each man, each woman a soldier,

Controlled by who knows? With no souls.

No hope as those gone far ago had, of a war ending soon,

Gazing into the future, we lived under the same moon.


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, Books, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, History, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 15 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Italian Sonnets – “Unbirthday Hell En Medias Res” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #taleweavers


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write poem in the middle of things en medias res. The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Quote is for the letter N. The Tale Weavers Prompt courtesy of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie is to write about an unbirthday. 

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Credit: Not on The HighStreet Enterprises – http://www.notonthehighstreet.com

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I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. — Pablo Neruda

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Serve me tea and cut the cake quickly please,

Ensure my tea is cold with no odd hares. 

Or rabbit fur, or door mouse flees their. 

My unbirthday, she is here — the tease

She comes most everyday to say ‘breathe!’ 

You’re not old yet, many unbirthdays left,

Hold your years close to your beating chest.

You look like twenty-five, oh please

Each and everyday there is chocolate cake, 

Loud parties; a mad hatter who is weird,

Yes, the craziesness gets to me some days.

The party is brilliant, but I always peer,

For an escape home en medias res. 

Alice is happy with one birthday day. 

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So back to the town, back to my hills, 

No more unbirthdays? Mind left reeling;

Alice’s leaving Wonderland? Sad feeling. 

Pictures on walls here are hung straight — be still, 

To think on leafy forests dear, woods filled. 

The voice of the rain as it falls and it glows, 

But I’m too drawn to rabbit holes at will. 

Back amidst glamorous parties thrown, 

Having left peace a mere second ago, 

The town brook,  seems a mellenia’s dream.

Same crew in Wonderland serving tea. 

Too hot, too cold, to much cake makes me grow, 

Back to unbirthday hell — un medias res. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Rictameter – “Foresight” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver prompt having to do with the importance of sight, physical, spiritual, or beyond. Also thank you to Linda J. Wolf of the blog Urban Poetry for the new poem format. Rictameter verse had 9 lines and the first and the last line repeat. The syllable count for each line is as follows: 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2. 

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Also, I know many of you are doing the A to Z Challenge for April. But if anyone’s interested in poetry, join me in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). A poem a day for 30 days. You can sign your blog up at www.napowrimo.net. Each day in April, return to the site for the daily poetry prompts and remember to link back to the website when you write your poems and to tag your work #NaPoWriMo so other bloggers can read your awesome poetry. Looking forward to reading everyone’s poetry takes. If you are REALLY up for the challenge combine NaPoWriMo with the A to Z Challenge 🙂 

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Credit: Google Images

To see,

With clarity,

Minds are required to —

Be open to possibility.

All the relevant outcomes forecasted,

Made with thinking of calculated —

Risks; all aspects bad,

Or fortunate,

To see.

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Because,

Limited sight,

Costs lives, so we try —

To foresee what could occur.

What is likely to happen in certain —

Situations; or what won’t —

Occur; we attempt to —

See the future,

Because.

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We live,

Blindly despite,

Attempts to know.

We can’t actually know;

As much as we make it seem,

As if we can configure potential,

But it’s all a fantastic lie.

We know nothing but —

Footsteps ahead,

We live.

——

Blindly,

Our sight fades for —

Physically our prime is —

Short; but we can see past —

Spiritually if only —

We choose to see, to look within and find,

Our immortality left,

After we pass on.

We try to see,

Blindly.

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In life,

We desire to —

Know what happens —

Next; can we stop our fears,

Trouble from taking place or should —

We leave it in God’s hands and let,

Our worry and painful burdens,

Be His to decide,

Thy Will Be Done, 

In life.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Current Events, Event, Fiction, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Fiction – The Eyes of What Now? #taleweavers #amwriting #fiction #IdesofMarch 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weavers. The theme is the a tale on the lighter side of things.

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Credit: Gary Larson

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Steve walked into English 311 wearing a toga and a gold spray-painted crown of leaves.

Dr. Lawerence, their English Professor, laughed at the front of the room along with some of the other students.

“Why is what Steve wearing funny?” Ambrose asked Jen, “Its not like this is some party.”

“I think it might have something to do with Julius Caesar. What about you?” Jen said dryly.

“The play we’re studying?” Ambrose’s asked. His friend, sitting behind him tittered. “Shut up, Dan,” he said.

Dan kept laughing, “How can you be reading Julius Caesar in English 311 and not understand why Steve is wearing that getup?”

Dr. Lawerence overheard his student’s conversation. He chuckled, ” ‘Beware the Ides of March,’ Ambrose. Remember what I said in Monday’s class?”

Ambrose shook his head, “Eyes of what now?”

The student’s around Ambrose and their professor laughed. Jen sighed. ” Caesar was assassinated on the ‘Ides of March.’ The seer in the play told him to ‘beware’ of it, but he was still stabbed and killed.”

“I thought Brutus murdered Caesar? Now you’re saying a seer did?”

Dr. Lawerence peered at Ambrose concerned, “Are you sure you want to major in English Literature, Ambrose?”

He looked up and shrugged. The professor sighed and returned to the front of the room. There was always one in every class.

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©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Free Verse, Health, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Free Verse – “Without You” #taleweavers #poetry #amwriting


Last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt was to use the code pictured below, in telling a story. Thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

 

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Your garbled words, they don’t make sense,

They were the last words you wrote, then;

You disappeared, no trace of whence,

You’d return, so explain again,

Why you left me alone heart so rent? 

Why you can’t explain our past tense?

You’re not weak, but through aged lense,

Disease stole my gentlemen.

You were young, full of life intense;

With passion for dreams, no pretense.

The man you were is gone; he’s distant,

Lost, his last thoughts code absurd.

I don’t understand, things he heard,

Why he aged quickly; ill concerned,

For someone who used direct words.

Now your life is finite, deterred.

You aren’t who I knew, you’re gone, turned;

Alzheimer’s stole you — who you were,

I’m the woman left behind blurred;

A ghost — now we’re both unheard.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Crossing the Veil #amwriting #taleweavers #fiction


Thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt: A tale which takes place beyond the veiled mist. 

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Credit: Adventures In The Wild

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Kyria had been warned since she was a small child, beyond the veil was dangerous. Her older siblings had told her monsters lived there, that there were witches waiting to eat a young child. 

What the adults said wasn’t much better. Her Grandma Iris said she’d lose her soul if she was caught in the veil beyond. She talked about shape shifters and immortal creatures of the dark such as vampires and werewolves.

One day hanging the laundry on the line at her grandmothers, Kyria gazed at the veil nearby. She hadn’t thought of it for a long time and she wasn’t sure why it called to her now. She’d never admit she could hear the whispers of the creatures which lived their. They were tempting her and she knew it.

 Did everyone in the village see the veil as she did? Kyria believed they had no idea where it physically was, that to them it was was only folklore for children and not a real thing; it was extremely real to Kyria and she knew for her grandmother as well. 

Kyria was twenty-four and long past the age of adulthood. Her parents lived together and her siblings with their families. She hadn’t found a suitable man to marry so her father decided she should move in with her ailing Grandmother and care for her. He thought she needed to be of use somewhere since she hadn’t married quickly as her sisters did. 

The more Kyria thought about the veil and the mist shrouding it, the more she thought about how she’d never put herself out there in life. She’d always done what she was told and when others failed she was the one who took their place, who filled in so everything went smoothly. 

It was how she made up for her so-called “selfishness,” still being single and not having children for her family and village. She wondered why she had never pushed her boundaries and was tired of being ruled by her father’s and her grandmother’s whims.

Kyria loved her Grandma Iris the most because she understood Kyria better than anyone. But her grandma still cautioned her to never cross the veil daily. But grandma was inside sleeping and Kyria heard the whispers from veil more and more these days. They were a sirens call to her. 

She ignored all she had been told by her grandma, her family, and her friends as a child. She decided today she would cross the shrouded veil into the other world. Dropping the laundry Kyria walked towards the veil and into the mist surrounding it. The veil shimmered as she came closer and sonorous voice could be heard singing on the other side. 

When she reached the line where the spiritual and natural worlds met Kyria stopped for a moment and stood. She smiled and with both hands raised in front of her she was able to feel the mystical energy she was about to pass through. 

She stepped into the shimmering fog and breathed deeply. Her long blond hair flew out behind her and it was the last thing her grandmother saw as she watched her granddaughter cross into the other world. 

Grandma Iris sighed in frustration but she knew as it had been with her, the veil had been too much of a temptation for Kyria. She knew that adventure and discovery awaited her sheltered granddaughter. As it had been with Iris, the veil and it’s magic was in Kyria’s blood. Grandma Iris was the only one besides Kyria who actually could see the veil, she had made herself guardian of the gateway and hoped Kyria would take over for her one day. 

But as the last of Kyria’s blond hair slipped through veil and disappeared, Iris couldn’t help being thrilled for her granddaughter. What awaited Kyria would shape and change her. It would motivate and hurt her, it would be an experience far beyond the scope anyone in the village would ever experience. 

Iris blew a kiss towards the veil and whispered a blessing for Kyria. The feelings of excitement in Iris were so intense it was as if it were fifty-years-ago and she herself was crossing the veil. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Relationship, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Fiction – A Bit of PDA #amwriting #fiction #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver prompt which is a story about why touch is important. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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I didn’t understand it, we’d been dating a year and Raph never touched me in public. He didn’t mind when I rubbed his back in the mall or if I made the effort to lace my fingers through his. When I first pecked him on the cheek in public he blushed bright red. 

I asked him one day why he didn’t touch me in public. In private he couldn’t keep his hands off me. He didn’t mind cuddling at home and he often tangled his hand in my hair or massaged the back of my neck while we watched TV. I adored these touches but didn’t understand why he was afraid to initiate small bits of PDA. 

I explained to Raph how it was important to me because it made me feel like I was his, that he loved me, and didn’t care what anyone else thought of us. He was angry at first and confused, but the next day as we grocery shopped he linked his pinky through mine while we waited to pay. 

Two days later he casually put his arm around my shoulders at his friend’s house. I snuggled into him kissing him when his buddy went to grab more beer. I linked my pinky with his and smiling, Raph returned the kiss as his friend walked into the living room. I was thrilled Raph understood how much these small touches meant to me. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 


alouette, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Alouette – “Entrapped” #taleweavers #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver prompt on having a dark side or the dark side of life. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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” . . .Don’t get to close its dark inside. It’s where my demons hide, it’s where my demons hide” – “Demons” by Imagine Dragon

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They’re people we meet, 

In them darkness keeps. 

A veil over haunted eyes, 

Something telling weighs, 

Light badly betrays;

Shadows lift, they’re undisguised

—–

Putting on a face, 

Something’s hidden; pace —

Steadily, you’re caught thinking. 

Truth can be harmful, 

Darkness it swarms. 

Seeming ruse has us shrinking. 

——

To start, talk awhile;

Some demons revile

Other darkness isn’t asked for it’s, 

Unfairly gifted, 

Souls broken, shifted;

Waiting for light at home lit. 

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No one is so lost, 

They can’t be reformed. 

Shadows hold tightly, a hand —

Gives hope in the dark,

Heals bruising black marks. 

Keep helping, say: “Here’s my hand.” 

—–

Though darkness found can —

Be fearful, programmed, 

In those with no conscience led;

Most people are sought, 

It happens a lot;

We’re trapped in nightmares dread

—–

But the light of hope, 

In dawn always glows

Derelict souls need help, change, 

Is possible;

Not impossible. 

Leave no one entrapped; estranged. 

—–

©Mandibelle16 (2017) All Rights Reserved.