You weave a translucent web,
crafted with mastery...
Your victims;
totally and completely unaware of
the shadow lurking at it's core.
You live in the darkness,
and choose to close your door...
To lock out love and light -
to hold in dark and night so
that you can lose yourself
and not have to watch the fool
as he tramples what is left
of you in your water-soaked
rainbow of shades of grey.
I wonder, what ever
happened to you that
could make you hate so.
I have found my way
to the centre of your Truth...
it lies veiled in platitudes,
filled with the pretense of
who society dictated to you
that you must be...
You're not free - you live
in a self-made prison,
bars made of self-loathing;
and the chains that bind
you to cell walls are filled
with the criticism of self-hate -
The colour of grey - shimmering slate
of torment lingers deep...
You refuse to awaken
from your oblivious sleep.

© Deborah L. Kelly