My torture

Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened chamber as I kneel,
always in pain, always in prayer,
frozen here,
waiting.

Tortured forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
sparing not my exposed flesh.

Blood on my face.

I raise my head, now crying out for
this oblivious fate.

~Copyright ©2005 Luke Alexander~