A grain of red where my heart used to be,
the smallest of wounds barely visible,
portal to trick things out and in, free
but with unknown dangers able
to bring me to my knees. A grain of prayer
offered in sacrifice to bring healing balm
and let escape the tigers who bare
their teeth like shards to slaughter calm.
A grain of peace planted deep
within, may it flourish in dark soil,
spread its roots in the tangle that keeps
all in place while veiled in its roil
is well- churned moil swirling grains
of smokey doubt harbored in the red
wound as steady beat entrains
strict rhythym in place of easy tread.
Offered for Grapeling's Get Listed Ghost Stories over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads. Out of his October words I used: portal, trick, sacrifice, slaughter, veil, smoke and in the title: ritual, disguise. Original inspiration, however, came from Kerry's Sunday Mini-challenge: In Other Words- A grain of __.
Offered for Grapeling's Get Listed Ghost Stories over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads. Out of his October words I used: portal, trick, sacrifice, slaughter, veil, smoke and in the title: ritual, disguise. Original inspiration, however, came from Kerry's Sunday Mini-challenge: In Other Words- A grain of __.
