In the Dark Arena (poem) by Barbara W Armstrong on AuthorsDen

In the Dark Arena
by Barbara W Armstrong → (All Poetry by Barbara W Armstrong)
Friday, August 28, 2015 Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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The trapped feeling one gets when living with a monster

In the dark arena, so vast filled with loneliness…… Where duty and self Coalesced into only-ness This was my wasteland My homeland My own Though desperate and wanting I could not escape This vast-land of loneliness This wasteland my home Try to imagine just once How it is where you are the Puppet Your strings they are Only The one who can save you can kill you can Be In that vast-land of Only-ness That wasteland called home Depth of torment so deep None could see The scars that it wrought Me brought me to my Knees. She was the Only The one who controlled In that vast-land of loneliness That wasteland Was home Wretched she was to my Children to me lives were not listed as Self but as owned Turmoil and cruelty were Weapons which seared And the love of the Only-ness Was something we feared In that vast land of loneliness Vastland of Only-ness Wasteland of shadows That dark place called Home.

Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart

Reviewed on October 1, 2015

Heart wrenching some strings must be cut and even after they are the memories still sting. Well penned.

Reviewed by D. Vegas (Reader)

Reviewed on September 23, 2015

Barbara, your poem is chilling and dismal. Many can relate.
Hoping your situation gets better.

Always,
Deborah

Reviewed by audrine max

Reviewed on August 31, 2015

Woah.. Even though this is terrifying, i enjoyed your poetry.. Lovely write.. I was hooked to the rollercoaster of emotions..

Reviewed by - - - - - TRASK

Reviewed on August 29, 2015

8-29-2015:

There Is Always Way Out,i.e. I Was Beat To
Death Bastard Daddy Twice As Child Then I Turn 18
1 Karate Punch Out Like Light -His Hose Through
His Face As His Head Through Wall- Blood Everywhere
I Thought I Killed Him!

Only Way Gain Respect From 6' 6" 250 Lb Monster Is
Put (It) Him Out His Misery Fight Back-
I Suggest You Do Same( If Not Physical) In Your Mind!

TRASK...

Reviewed by ChrisTopher Stone

A very real and powerful poem. Although scar tissue heals, it is the memory of the emotional or physical event(s). There are many who "know" these experiences, and many who made the decision to stand once they had fallen to their knees.

Thanks,
Chris

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on August 28, 2015

It's early and dark, when the only place you call home is so dismal.

Ron

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton

I so relate with this . . . Mother, a four-letter word.