The Sun Rises on a New Day

August 29, 2008
By Melinda Mullet, Hesston, KS

The sun rises on a new day.
The birds sing and the dew sparkles.
And here I lye.
My face is drawn, eyes closed, lips sealed.
Wholly untouched by the miracle of life.
Torn apart till nothing is left intact.
Not my life, not my mind, not my spirit.
For they were brutal, meticulous, cruel.
Darkness spreads from their lingering presence.
It will never leave, never heal.
The memories will never vanish, fade.
They are sharp and jagged, reminders of pain, fear.
And I am consumed with anger.
And here I lye.
A black spot of wretched life.
Tainting the very air that brushes my skin.

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