# Anahata

Дарина Юрьевна Татаринова

My spirit strains - a thread pulled thin and long,

Unseen, unending, drawn from deep inside.

Feels like i'm stabbed in solar plexus and the blade

Is getting pulled out nauseatingly slow.

These ectoplasmic strings pulled with a force that lingers...

Who grabbed my soul with cruel claws and fingers

My body resonates with echo of ache

Endure, endure it for you know who's sake

A pain resides where light should fill the core,

Blade is unseen, yet deeply planted there.

It slowly twists... what does it looking for?

My soul's already caught in endless snare.

Unseen and endless, threads of ghostly white,

Reach out from wound and tug me to the void.

My soul unravels in deceptive light,

And everything I am now gets destroyed.

Invisible strings, like gossamer thin lines,

Extend and stretch, pulled outward, one by one.

Being of mine cries, struggles and declines,

Leaving a husk beneath the waning sun.

This constant torment makes my vision bleak

Oh to pull them out at once and finally be free!