Poetry, Writing


This is a little older than some here, most of these I wrote a while back and am simply posting as they seem as the mood strikes me. (the goal is eventually to have about 10 weeks consistently queued up in advance. No I have not yet managed to be even ‘every week’ level organized.)

They Come through Me

I stand on a hill over looking the sea
The invaders are coming.
They come through me.

Some say I should run, they say I should flee.
Yet invaders are coming.
They come through me.

To this land have I fled and here I will stay.
And none shall ever drive me away.

I come of my choosing.
I go of my will.
The invaders are coming.
I stand here, still.

Sometimes it is running.
Sometimes it’s a fight.
Some times it is pain
In the dead of night.

The land they can take.
Life and wealth too.
There is far more than these they never will shake.

This land is a will they never can know.
This land is a hope they never will show.

I stand on the ridge with my face to the sea.
Invaders are coming. They come through me.

“Musings” and “They Come Through Me” Copyright Heather Strickler, all rights reserved.

Image by Alan from Pixabay

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