In a Dark Room

In a dark room breaths breach the silence.
The unseen gathers, the gnashing of violence.

Orisons, just cries in the wilderness?
Fear to gag the wounded soul. Villainous!

I reach for a match and the incense burns.
I invoke the Jesus prayer. Bravery churns.

Incense rising, delivering my prayers to heaven.
Peace returns, no best of seven.

Published by Smith Shine Poetry

I am my poetry, my poetry is me. I pray what I believe. I believe what I pray.

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