Deserts Of Inner Piety Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Playing many sounds of music within this lonesome life;
grasping melodies like life-lines, trying desperately
to hold on to a sliver of something good or holy.

Waking every day instead to cries of woe and songs of
deep sadness, becoming one with pain inside, feeling
and experiencing a difficult slow demise of personhood.

Likely facets turning inside out, causing agony and solitary
abandonment.

Quietly living out this long and tired life, going nowhere,
finding there is no hope to be found in desperate times;
often falling on calloused knees, unable to pray.

Desolate, forbidden deserts of inner piety and closest
desecration of a being, constantly spinning and turning away
from sight.

Bringing greatest sides of pain to the forefront, paralyzing
everything inside, stopping even the existence of life.