Only Warriors Cry...

Where is my Respite,
who will ease My Sorrow,

who can break

the Deafening Silence,

who dares into My Darkness follow

and peer at the Multitude of Sins;

where would I begin

when the Sardonical Grin

leers back, rears back
its ugly head

and roars my name,

what has changed but the Date

when I am forever running,

a Day late and more than a dollar short

and all I have left

are my sharp retorts

and quick hands,

hoping I land on my feet,

praying I can complete one thing,

hoping what I bring to the table

will not be too tainted to eat,

never enough, never enough;

rough hands and callused Heart,

Soul torn apart on a daily basis,

insults borne from the Nameless

and the Faceless

just to bring you words on pages

wet with tears

from Long Ago Ages,

Stages upon Stages,

Rages upon Rages
and for what;

so you can read

and nod your head in agreement?...

Is this my Lot in Life,

not much of a Life

when you have naught much else

but Soul...
March 30, 2015