Night storms

Photo by Tengyart on Unsplash

Cuts to her feet
Blood washed away
As she tiptoes through
Night storms — thumping the heavens
Quietly breathing
Like exhaling a fog
With each breath she takes
Soaked through to the skin
What’s she running from?
They say past sins
Is truth sinful?
As she tiptoes through
Night storms
Pain and confusion
Strewn across her face
With cuts to her feet
As she tiptoes through
Night storms — chaos
Erupting, threatening
To destroy her life
Hearing a voice say
“Run child, run”