Hopeful Spirit Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Bullets of remorse hit me unendingly with leaden sorrow.
Pounding me into mires of earth, covering me with dirt
of cemetery's.
Pits of hell try to surround me in everything I do.
Uselessly, I travel alone, walking away from evil and
it's horrendous storms.
Deafening thunder clapping itself louder with each moment.
Forgetting to fall into devil snares with prayers always
on my lips and a hopeful spirit.