The Wailing Satellite

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Inside The Womb

Submitted: August 08, 2019

Reads: 186

Comments: 7

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Submitted: August 08, 2019

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The Wailing Satellite 

 

"How far south can one go?" I have been wondering since the day I met God. 

An answer I want to know not, but I'll tell to you how my Fate was formed if I must.

This is tale of love and hate, of hope and despair; and how I came to be aware that

Faith was something that could have you saved as well as have you destroyed. 

This is not from a person who writes with a Rosy pen, but from a broken bard. 

A story true, though, I must say, despite it may be dark and have you disturbed.

"How far south can one go?" Body Death is far from the worse answer can I go. 

Happy would I be if that was what I had rewarded on the day when I was born! 

 

1. Inside The Womb

In the deepest dark of a confined space did I float. Warm to the touch but unreal.

Every sound and voice was heard like churning and throbbing drums of storms. 

The beating of the heart, the flowing of blood, the breathing of the lungs and the groans. 

"You are a sinner! I shall not let you live as such. Die you must. But still I love you dear."

From the sky, like a raging belch of a drunk, a voice of bold and haughty howled. 

Throguh womb, a terrific fit of bangs on my head was felt, with what I did not know.

Dig and hide had I tried, but only the dammed wall of the jail would I hit and learn! 

I bent my neck, contorted my limbs, I waited for a sharp knife poked and stabbed,

a forceps gripped and pulled. I cried out a slient scream, which no one had heard. 

Agony was felt, wounds had made. It was the fifth attempted termination of me and all. 

Yet, some unknown strength, perhaps without and within, had me mended and grown.

But it remained a heart grotesquely distorted, both in shape and in essence. 

Being born as a demon as they called.

I was a God's attempted-abort child

whose mother was not Marry but a whore.

A secret He wanted to keep but I would tell.


© Copyright 2019 Derina Penn. All rights reserved.

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