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