Shifting Ever Nearer-published in Glove Magazine

The sky appears to be closing in, shifting ever nearer
Pockets of clouds like bones on an x-ray, floating aimlessly
Mind entwined in barbed wire, a network of loops like the number eight
Girls with skipping ropes and ribbons, pretty dresses as bait

The unwelcome guest, an imminent arrival, shifting ever nearer
No prying eyes, bundled to the dirt, a struggle for safety
Wants, longings, games played, desires become sated
Prayers and offerings, candles lit, in honour of the ill-fated

Questions that won’t be answered, the blame game, shifting ever nearer
Forever different, rearranging then toppling of chess-board pieces
A red dust storm of grief coating every fibre of her being
Fists clenched, a cry for help directed at HIM, the omnipotent, the all-seeing

Sympathetic glances, awkward stances, shifting ever nearer
The snuffing of a flame, a life, blacked-out curtains firmly drawn
Resorting to a form of hide and not seek, shell-like from the torture of grief
No respite from the pain of injustice, as life goes on for the heartless thief