Dust to dust I fall down
Raking coals of fire hot
Never did I see the way
That I might walk in light
And so the up is followed by
A hollow swift and numb descent
A crashing train that jumps the rails
And dreams that it could fly
But I am broke
and war is hard
and loved ones lost
leave many scars
and sometimes
When I’m alone
I think the things they cannot see
haunt me more than most.

I remember good enough to cry
with each pain that makes its home
here inside my tired form
that dreams of peace and love.

Up up up we go
Let us rise again again
until the crash it will feel nice
the wet clouds on my face.

5 thoughts on “Despair

  1. Humidity of the clouds will feel nice
    when we float…
    I go there often.
    More often than most.
    The fall will leave deep
    scars. Deep. Penetrating.
    The memories, aching reminders
    of “what could’ve been”.

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