Your Poetry Dot Com - ~ The Cross road~

It could almost be a nightmare, that leaves you fearing sleep.
The moment when you are running, but stuck in invisible quicksand.
Road, pitch as tar, no moon or stars for guides,
an inner rumbling volcano where hurt and unrest reside.

Feeling spooked in your own skin, wearing uncertainty like a glove.
Suffocating silence where answers do not seem to come.
A web wrapped tight around you, holding your arms to your sides,
not knowing whom to trust, or where to run and hide.

The wolf in lambskin knocking at your door, rattling the locks.
Wearing the mask of someone you love but are they who they say they are?
It is everything mixed up, and scrambled into one lone pile.
The end of the road at the cross road, no signs no moon no stars.

This poem is Copyright © shelby