Author: Lynnea Mileusnich

  • Hope is Broken

    Hope is broken. It does not always shine. It comes and goes like wind, and when you reach out for it, it fades. Satan buries it beneath the earth so you must dig it out. He throws it in the sea so you will have to fish it back up,…

  • Three Questions

    Call me old fashioned, think it strange That when I see a man, I espy not his charm, For I’ve learned that man’s nature is not sacrifice Nor is his desire held in refrain. Call me strict, or perhaps too harsh When I scrutinize the men God puts in my…

  • Hello world!

    Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start writing!

  • Flowers on the Vine

    If I could describe our childhood,I’d say it beamed bright pumpkin orangeWith the soft smell of Ma’s homecooked pie.I can’t help but smile when I think ofThe way you bloomed in the light of spring. If I could describe your suffering,I’d call you a vibrant pumpkin rindWhose insides rot deep…

  • Flowers in the Cracks

    I never meant to be your burden,Filling my childish mind with dreamsOf play, picnics, and precious moments.Why did I believe my dreams, my hopes,Superseded the good life you built? Too late I know I am your burden,After years of decomposing hopesAnd wishes of what family could be.Why did I think…

  • Devil’s Child

    Through the crack in the door I watch the silhouettes of the village kids kicking balls in the dry dirt. I could be with them if not for my sin. Father tells me I must not approach the children lest I taint, or otherwise curse, them. I glimpse pieces of…

  • Faithful Friends (Clean Fiction Magazine Fall 2024 Winner)

    Through the window, Ray saw a dead world. The month-long drought had decimated the land, drying the dirt so completely that each time he searched the ground for fallen acorns, the dirt crumbled under his paws like a forgotten cookie. The leaves had all begun to rot on the ground,…

  • Protected: His Healing Wings

    There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

  • Ashen Tulip (Clean Fiction Contest Winner)

    Through the window, I saw the future.  Dreams are always strange, but this . . . I actually felt like I was in the dream. The hairs on my arms rose from the chill behind the window.  Definitely weird. Without deciding whether I should be curious or worried that I…