Falling to their knees,
and dust rising to the sky.
You see faint shadows of them,
as they try to stand back up.
Finding something to hold onto,
grasping for a helping hand,
As they struggle to their feet.
Gasping for clean air,
their eyes are finally open,
as they brush the dirt from their clothes.
Working their way from the shadows,
defeating the demons,
and then using them as stepping stones.
One step at a time,
they come back to the surface.
Starting new,
a fresh slate,
I see these women,
beginning life again.
Coming back from the depths of hell,
One as my angel,
the other as my mother. |