"Hushhh", whispered the wind in a ghostly voice on a barren field. "Hushhh", in muted tones from a drawn and gray faced sky. Slivers of grass like green toned glass lay down before the wind, but above me on the hill, whipped by the hushing wind, was a sliver of white like a mute swan's wings, waving and waving still. Tied and bound to a stake, a weathered cross with a blackened point, its shredded fingers touched my face, caressing, teasing wisps of cloth, soft despite the roughening wind etched with dirt and sand. I grasped it gently, calloused fingers rubbing strands of worn threads, fingering edges torn and roughly shorn. No imaginations voiced from what it had been ripped and why. The wind whispered "hushhh" with the frowning clouds. I stubbornly closed my eyes to the dark and angry skies and listened to the pleading sounds of the cloth, whipped back and forth, alone. I started to untie it, its begging holes like eyes, when my eyes dropped to the ground, packed dirt, smashed by a booted heel, one end of the stake driven harshly through the middle. A slab of stone lay by the stake, gray like the skies, gray like the seas, almost unintelligible words roughly cut on to its surface. All I could make out was "daughter of". I glanced at the cloth, whipping and whipping still, crying as a cloth can cry.
I wonder what her name was.
Hoped you liked it and here's a another poem for fun, I wrote this one when I was 7 so whatever.
YELLOW SUN
Yellow Sun, Yellow sun high above me staring down upon me as I look up at the, Your ray's Pierce my eye's but do not hurt me unlike everything around me. Yellow sun your as beautiful as can be Yellow sun don't you see I love the.
Thanks for reading and please comment guy's I really wanna know what you think. Peace out
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