Mark Bratlie

I awaken in a place
Untouched by morning's light
With heart and hands and voice
Helplessly engulfed
In thick and heavy silence

The stagnant emptiness
Seeks the lowest level
Then from below
Begins to fill my spaces
With its awful fullness

Somehow pain finds room
And rips with fury
From a chamber deep within
Sending haunting quivers
Through the mired stillness

Then with stifled voice
And halting gesture
Pain itself
Decides to flee
In silent desperation