There are days…

There are days
when everything is right,
days when all the fields
shine so bright.

But today is not
one of those days,
instead, it’s just proof
of how nobody prays.

Today the sun
has lost her glow,
and the rain sent instead
has been all just for show.

Fattened gray clouds
still gush in sheets,
flooding sunken corners
on empty streets.

Sorry puddles
reflect sullen skies,
waters blurry black
like mascara eyes.

Echos of harsh words
woven in the winds,
a mournful reminder
of how the story always ends.

© 2025 Michelle Cook


Photo generated with AI

Old Gods

Continued from here

Scouring the corridors for any sign of a way out, Darla walked briskly, knowing exactly what the Detainers would do if they found her. She’d already scurried through at least a dozen different passageways, and each adjoining area she found led to even more open-aired hangars. The hangars were full of battle-ready fighter jets and monstrous-sized cargo ships. Each silvery gleaming monstrosity seemed to be floating in unified anticipation of what was soon to come. Flashbacks of the Old Gods kept filling Darla’s mind. How had the world she’d left just a few years ago gone from pleasant rolling hills blanketed in emerald green clover to the current devastation, which was spreading more each day? It was difficult to understand how greed could be the cause of so much despair. And where was Abbefore she wondered, had he escaped and gone back into hiding, or was he now captured along with the others? And with that last thought, a sudden searing pain shot through her arm, and then another nipped at her upper thigh. That’s when the lights went out, the flashbacks disappeared, and with the onset of darkness, the dreams began.

© 2024 Michelle Cook

Continued here


Photo credit: https://afterwards.blog/

Writing challenge: https://afterwards.blog/2024/01/22/afterwards-writing-prompt-3-monday-22nd-of-january-old-gods/

Superficial

Like a geyser, I gush,
spurting my rage,
but it’s all underneath,
turmoil engaged.

From the top of my head
to the bottom of my feet,
the swells of unrest
continue to heat.

The storm grows stronger,
destruction in its wake.
Still, I try to breathe calmly,
fearing I might break.

And nobody ever knows
the misery I endure;
It’s all just a façade,
a superficial blur.

© 2022 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/grief-woman-cry-destruction-pain-5501796/

Frog pudding and dilapidated doorways

Those frog pudding days
Just lead to dumpy doorways
Somethings gotta give

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/gate-old-stone-aged-decay-doorway-3718546/

Writing prompt: Frog pudding and dilapidated doorways

Reconciled

rain-1567616_960_720

Woefully dancing in the glistening rain
The crystal dewdrops try to absorb all her pain

She spies a shadow lurking nearby
Presence revealed she now begins to cry

Glinting orbs of rainbows shatter like glass
Covering her face in a cold weather mask

Distancing herself from the one who brings tears
The glittering gems try to calm all her fears

She leaps away through the showers of delight
On wings God’s graced her with she soon takes flight

Her heavenly father takes her under his care
The cool gentle rain melts away her despair

Her once shivering body now invaded by light
Frees her from the shadow that once haunted her by night

© 2018 Michelle Cook