Wars never fought.
A gentle mist that sits upon
Fallen stories drenched in blood
Burdens filled with guilt and shame
And all that quiet rage.
Her hair shines
And so does her spirit
Though she seems not to know it
The heart gets beaten and depressed
The worries and the sickness weigh
And all the heartache fills the world
At least what you can see.
When she speaks
I am stilled.
As if caught
in some web
and I cannot move
at the sound
of her lovely voice.
They locked up better men
and left me out and free
They took the best that I had given
And threw it out with shit.
I do not see the light sometimes
The darkness fills me far too much
And I cannot take all this feeling
Sobriety is hard.
When she steps into a room
My mind goes blank with hope and fear
And everything becomes a jumble
Tossed and thrown about.
The fighting always never ending
A constant war without a pause
I long for rest that does not come here
At least it has not yet.
It is not oft she drops her guard
But when she does the angels sing
And in the voice of heavenly choirs
She might finally deign to speak.
I could not rise when I was bidden
Or so the chains did speak to me
And while my loved ones screamed in dying
I was fast held down.
Her eyes are big like pools of beauty
In a quiet mountain cleft
Though all about the storms are raging
Inside their waters lies still dreams.
He sent me to a desert flying
Thrown upon the waiting sand
Ripping flesh and bruising ego
Break the bones to save the soul.
If I look up I fear I’ll die,
I draw so close unto the end
I am so heavy: I cannot fly.
But still you call to send.
Gold and blue that soothes the soul
A waiting shelter in the storm
A sign of hope and futures loved
After all the pain.