An Open Door



Eyes of the devil


from the shadows,

waiting silently.

Another victim on the horizon.


of schedule,

preparations nearly complete.

Patience rewards the perpetrator.

Zealous puppeteer

working past reason,

burning love’s candle.


the door left open.

No need to knock.

Darkness entering slowly.


in plain sight.

No need to hide.

Unseen by blind emotion.

Too busy screaming.

Distorted thoughts meddling.

It’s in their nature.

Zealous puppeteer working overtime again.


enemies accused

of the usual

false crimes.

Defenseless against the tide.


announcing its presence.

No need for more.

One more willing puppet.

Love’s candle burnt out,

filling the air with smoke.

The bizarre forms of smoke

©2016 Brenda Baker

For this poem, I wanted to explore the destructive nature of hatred. An ugly emotion that obliterates love, obscures our vision and hides the truth.

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