Challenge
Challenge of the Month XXXIX
Write a short poem about your own private Hell. The tortured who reigns gets 100 big ones. Winner will be picked by Prose. Go.
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Silent Scream
In those moments so quiet,
My thoughts run riot.
My sole(soul) left with no plot,
I gather what I got.
Seeing the emerging pallette,
I reason out to ballot.
Connecting the dots...
Alone together,
Further and farther
Till no murmur,
Into the visible darkness..