This powerful contribution to The Festival of Bridges comes from Willow, whose enthralling blog can be found here.
Every night she crosses the bridge betwix life and death.
Carrying the tormented souls that are of hope bereft.
Her shadow like its owner empty and lost gently follows.
She looks for life and love for she has none, her heart and soul are nothing but hollow.
The moon looks on and gently weeps as she, her lonely vigil keeps.
Misery and desperation are tangible in the air.
Colours she craves colours, rest she craves rest and the warm of another body
She craves colour and warmth and above all sleep, this is her life not her hobby.
Demon hands reach through the slats of the bridge searching for souls, they do not want hers it is long gone!
They scratch at her heels they pull at her ankles they hurt her but worse they hold her back and drag her down so she never sees the sun!
Pour lost soul there is no hope left for her, nightly she stumbles on alone tortured and held by invisible rope.
Pray for her, plead for her as she in torment wails, she is condemned to this for eternity, no chance of escape for her, no hope.
The Festival of Bridges runs until October 31st and I would be delighted to receive a contribution from you. Simply email me on firstname.lastname@example.org. I look forward to hearing from you.