Is It Too Late? #poetry #2020aprpad

Prompt: write a purpose poem

Is It Too Late?

How do I write about purpose
when I no longer know my own?
I did once, long ago
bright-eyed and determined –
I wanted to weaponize my words
slice through the demons of this world
right the wrongs
reveal the hidden bones
of corruption run amok

But I had demons of my own
that needed slaying
and my demons weren’t readers –
I had no voice to echo them out
Their torment overshadowed me
left little room for my warrior self
Their occasional plagues
became rampant attacks
and I had no immunity against them

Decades came and passed
as I cowered in my self-imposed cave
carefully nestled between fanged walls
trying to find my sword, my voice –
small whimpers at first
but not quite loud enough
followed by squeaks and yelps
’til one day, a roar
The demons took notice then

And now with demons scattered
their bones crumbled to the floor
I still tremble –
no longer the bright-eyed girl
my determination worn thin
Do I have what it takes
to be an Elder? One wise with knowing?
Will my ancient words even matter
or have I reached my end?

©2020 Lori Carlson. All rights reserved.