Anticipation

Posted on by Reena Saxena

What could have been and what is
stories that reverberate through my spine
unstabbed back, but the dagger can strike
to change my shape forever

I look forward to some, but am terrified of
drums; that invisible pen which writes my fate
sprinkles ink on my budding blooms
garden of hope; on the tentacles of a storm

Anticipation – the monster rips my innards
I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe, but the magical
dreams walk hand-in-hand with shadows unknown
Uncertainty of Fate drives growth

Poetics: Personifying the Abstract

W3 Prompt #152

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