Student Publishing Program ::

Monica He

Children of Satan

Believe in me.
Your words
resonating
in my deranged soul
shreds my heart.

I speak not
for I dare not.
Your anger
lashes out.
it strikes with fury;
it sears like hot coals.

Besides,
Pigeons cannot
reach their destination;
blocked
by the vengeful storm,
battered and
thrown
like a pair of worn shoes.
For,

Your love
exists
with mellow angels-
Gone
in my eyes.

As I-
a lost cygnet
searching
for warmth.

A house without
a family.

I stay still
in false patience. 
Waiting and trembling.
The shackles
Ringing metallically.

It’s clear -
Hope is a child - innocent
until
Lost.

On my knees,
I cry.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2013 EDITION]