I am often gripped by feral anger-
caught between its teeth-
there is a tragic pile of my feathers
by the side of the sanctuary
called forgiveness-
I have lost the way to it-
when the grip loosens
I am all bruised within-
to one, standing on the lowest rung of the ladder
to forgive is divine-
Posted for my prompt ~ Forgiveness @ Poets United Midweek Motif