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Anxiety
Dark clouds gather-
rain un-called tears
to dull the light
from breaking dawn.
Cruel fingers pluck
at threads of fear,
unravelled from each
time worn night.
Where shadows grope
the unknown path
to steal a future from
all sight.
And drums beat loud
upon the torment
of the mind.
Anxiety Poem
"...cruel fingers pluck/at threads of fear," is a graphic essence portrait of anxiety and it's torment. Well said. Well composed and those drums were well felt - slc
Many thanks Stella, I expect
Many thanks Stella, I expect we all feel deep anxiety which haunts our early mornings at some point, unfortunately. Sue. X