Night’s Veil and the Wicked One Hundred

Night’s Veil and the Wicked One Hundred 

by Patrick Pomeroy

 She left her office
In the kind of dark
Only a cat-fight might know. 

Shocked by the brilliant day
And what was real to her. 

A hundred people with their
exhaustive energies.
Saturating her with grievances
And plight. 

No lover’s hands or drink
Could empty her conscience
To break free from the
madness that was her day. 

A hundred blighted souls
grabbing as if blinded and
forgotten. Her air sucked away
by their fury. 

She hurriedly meditated to stave
off the demons that returned again
and again…savages in her nights. 

Her soul a freighter’s hull crashing
 into boundless fright…. 

When all the day’s work rolled into
one came bursting forth in one torrid
flood.. 

That night she managed just one brave smile
 knowing soon there would be light.

 

 

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