She used to live in the city,
Amidst opportunity and fortuitous lights.
Then its underworld consumed her,
Shattered her sanity, tossed her into a pit of disillusionment.
She grabbed her bags and wandered.
Drifted, shifted, strayed.
Set up in the country,
In a gated house, down a quiet lane.
But the wolves began their prowling,
Detecting the aroma of a soul once lost.
Melodious, hypnotic howls captivated her curiosity.
She knew she shouldn’t open the door…
When the savagery had ended,
The bedroom ripped and torn,
She dragged her beaten body
And headed for the shore.
A lighthouse, a moonlit pier.
Lovers walking hand in hand.
So much vulnerability here, too exposed.
She dims her light, fearful …
High on a mountainous rock,
Solace is found in silence.
She builds her stonewall tower,
And here the pain stops.
The cliffs are steep,
The air is thin…
…and no-one can get in.
No-one can penetrate her skin.
By Tina Barnes