Challenge
Challenge of the Month XXXIX
Write a short poem about your own private Hell. The tortured who reigns gets 100 big ones. Winner will be picked by Prose. Go.
Silent Scream
In those moments so quiet,
My thoughts run riot.
My sole(soul) left with no plot,
I gather what I got.
Seeing the emerging pallette,
I reason out to ballot.
Connecting the dots...
Alone together,
Further and farther
Till no murmur,
Into the visible darkness..