Brutal Torment..

Empty rooms, hollow and dark,
shrilling ache, uncovering rage.
All tranquil thoughts gone,
just the unpleasant mist of hate.
As the sun retires and bows for the night, my fears are unleashed.
I scream into the chaotic darkness,
my sound is muted.
I want to conceal,
my being is fading.
My own innate,
choking on your words
of eternal bitterness.
Soul of torment needs serene silence and horizons clear.
You subdue me, I succumb.
All life strangled out of the body,
brutal shiver, my mentality gone.  
Thelma A
1986 - ...


Ljóð eftir Thelmu A

Brutal Torment..
Sandflakes of an old time..
\" Words unspoken \"