Pillars of Salt

Page 40

Fifty When on the edge of the abyss they stand, the wild beating drums inside beat on relentless, chased from thresholds by the hand imprisoning the harmless, fading gun; They plunge down deep into the waiting gulf, consumed by hopes of hailing hopeful lights; To looming ends scurries the growing pulse propelled by trained, intrinsic matchèd flight. A wall, emerged, obstructs the studied path— With nowhere left but the forsaken course, despair abuses undervalued breath but expectations do conclusion force. Unbending will attacks the final wall; triumphant sprinters, pleased, rejoice the call. Gabriella Lamm ’13

38 Pillars of Salt


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Pillars of Salt by The Archer School for Girls - Issuu