Photo by Reza Hasannia on Unsplash

For Whom The Pale Blade Pierces

Trials and tribulations step aside.

The ax has fallen.
I’m betrayed.
Sent my best into battle.
Delay beset with delay.
“But new frontiers await,”
The voices cry in my head.
Could a trap be sprung?
Could my adventure be bait?

Severed at the neck.
Blood of my struggle so near.
Pungent, wet, and sticking.
Do I dare hear?

Pulling at the reigns, all my might given in fear.
Crossing darkening rivers full of hate and distrust.
Boiling in disgust and regret.
The path full of brambles which used to be clear.
My heart turns to dust.

Get away,
Run away,
Stay away from me.

Can’t feel my own pulse, it’s itching underneath.
Steering in opposing winds struggle to get uphill.
Filling soulful pockets till they run over in tears.
Straining to be broken again that to find new birth.
Dreaming in a wasting smile not quick to find real worth.

Sign the line and fill the void crumbling at your feet.
Spirit beckons to us all where we find belief.
Darkest hour creeping sour edge sharpened by my hurt.
Leaping, grasping, chancing fates to open up the sky.
The tide don’t know where we’re going to go but keeps flowing on and on.

Here I am,
Take a stand,
We will ride,
Through the night,
Find our home deep inside.
By biding our time, deep breaths in our stride.
And we will know on the climb of our hope deep in the shadows an uncovered wealth will appear.
Not of transient coin but a richness which won’t leave.

If you’ve fallen down the mountain.
And the leaves all seem grey.
Faces grinning everwhere but ours glum and afraid.
Look unto the window between the pains of grief.
Inside the fractured glimmer remains just a shard of slim relief.

Hard times, thin times, least times will pass.
We will find meaning residing where fear once was.
Where fear has gone we will remain.
Triumph in our cause regained.

Reach and Dream!

Photo by Alex Perez on Unsplash

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.

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