Unkempt Pictures Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Waiting in a lion's den, knowing that I will be eaten alive
by all the evils that have descended on this blank earth.

Finding no reprieve in sight, just biding time, waiting to
see when the blackness of night will befall at last.

Altogether existing, letting signals beckon from beyond,
startled into a silent reverie, having no recourse but to
enter a solitary space kept intact by the timelessness of
another dimension.

Being tempted all days of life, never giving up one iota of
thought, as life pulls back and falls through the holes in
this pattern of threaded designs.

Programming and rehearsing every memory, going into depths
once again, alone in unkempt pictures, put together hurriedly
in a moment of time.