A New Day is Dawning






A New Day is Dawning

 
 

The night was black as coal. The wind was howling, rattling the windows of Miranda's bedroom, making them sound as if they were ready to fly off their hinges. The girl's heart was bleeding, hot tears streaming down her face, scorching her inside. Curling serpents of flames burning her wild illusions, the hollow promises and pretensions. The mask had finally fallen off. The scales of her eyes were now flaking off on to her fingers. Her mind kept flashing back to the man she had worshipped like a god, that face behind the mask. His benign and defenseless epidermis now reeking of visceral putrefaction. How could she have been so naive? All that ugliness he kept hidden behind the doors of his soul was now boring through her heart, a thin razor rip that would take ages to heal. She tried to wipe away her tears, the small chandeliers glancing off light in the overhead lamp. A ray of hope in the crepuscular atmosphere of her self-confession-box seemed to poke out of her inner abyss. Her head was on a bit straighter for it.

Daniel was a commitment-phobe or maybe he was sport fishing. Yeah, that was it. As soon as he hooked and reeled her in, the rush of adrenaline was gone. Daniel had his epiphany; an alarm bell clanged on his heart, alerting him that he was being stifled by all this affection. It was not what he initially had in mind. His own identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world. Miranda was just a plaything. The whole affair was starting to get a little bit annoying. He could not help but break it off the hard way. He would stab a knife in her heart, twisting it further in, shattering the love's sweet illusion by telling Melinda, "I want out. You got it?" He said it cynically with eyes that bore right through her soul, leaving two open holes -- two wounds that she would never, ever jeopardize to see dehisce. She suddenly became stronger. Her inner power, now unleashed. The tears had run dry. The pain had been washed away by the rivulets of teardrops down her face. She stood up and looked out the window. The wind had let up, the seagulls were swirling and singing now. A new day was dawning...

Sofia Kioroglou 

Sofia Kioroglou is a missionary, a pilgrim and a wife who happens to write poetry and flash fiction as a form of catharsis. She would be a cave recluse in Sinai had she not met her husband in Jerusalem four years ago.

Her poetry and flash fiction have played on the radio and are included in many anthologies, and a number of literary journals and printed books that include Dumas de Demain, Galleon Literary Journal, Pengician, Lunaris Review, Degenerate Poetry, Odyssey.pm, Excavating the Underground, VerseWrights, Galway Review, The Outlaw Poetry Network, Your One Phonecall, Glance, Festival For Poetry, Verse-Virtual, Spillwords, In Between Hangovers, Writink Page, Silver Birch Press, The Blue Nib, Poetry Super Highway, Halkyon Days, Peeking Cat Poetry, The Books' Journal, Ashvamegh,  and Winamop, to name but a few. Her poetry book is available online at :


To learn more about Sofia Kioroglou’s work, visit: 


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