Chained Dolls Free Verse Poetry

Outside, shadows curse consecrated grounds
where strangers are mistaken for friends.
They gather, constructing melancholy
mazes where silence is an enemy
to ears begging for the wind’s whisper.
Lying in darkness are illusions
of perfection which have deserted heaven’s
porcelain chamber for juniper dreams.
An insomniac’s palace, I awake from life’s
camouflage, distancing myself
from man’s soulless conversation.
Outside Copyright © 2014 Anna M. Asbury

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