Image credit: Boyan Dimitrov

Deep inside you are somehow damaged
like a building which finds foundations
rotting slowly at the core
Your soul is a whirling dervish yet bereft
of spiritual solace or a purpose
just a wild and feckless thing
In your bloodline runs a sickness
as a cancer through the bones
so brittle breaking as you bend now
to make prayers to long-lost gods
Make your pleas in empty chapels
with knees here cracking like your soul
Like the rest who suffered your being
you’ll see you’ll never be quite whole.

(c) Helen Valentina 2015, All Rights Reserved