Revealed by sands time washed away.
Lining the shore are golden-lided jars.
Littered beaches in the star’s heart.
Riddled with broken memories; past traumas.
Filled with sharp shards; broken mirrors.
Buried in sand to protect memories.
Buried carefully and lovingly through toil.
Her hands were bloodied, broken, soiled.
Flesh worn thin from the undertaking.
The burial of so much sin.
Where, oh where, must she begin?
Time has come to live again.
The bells toll, her sorrow dies.
It is time now to love again.
For this she no longer cries.
Related: Where the Wild Roses Grow: A Story of Murder
2016.02.14
Namaste
__/|\__ Metta
Featured Image: Wayne from Cave of Fame
Thank you so much Wayne for this drawing! I couldn’t have done this justice. It’s beautiful and I can taste and smell the salty air, feel the breeze and sand between my toes. I can hear the gulls and water lapping the shore. Thank you for being part of this journey. Love to you in yours!
Yes Tiffany – you can link back, that would be great! Glad I could help – The more I am out here -The more it seems WordPress is filled with people making themselves less broken by sharing to help others.
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Done!
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