Tag: Muse in the Morning

Stopping the fighting

by means of war

someplace

just encourages

people to fight

someplace else

Whipped creaminess

of dangerous notions,

syllables expressed

too rarely

and more seldom heard,

whizzes by faster

than can normally

be sensed

Grabbing on

to a possibility

I was taken downward

further than

imagination

could conceive

There is truth here

There is more

wherever I look

                       As the road wound

                         through hard terrain

                           I sometimes doubted

                             my ability to go on

                               But I fought back

                                 the Fear

                                   and worked through

                                     the Pain

                                       with the help of my

                                         Friends along the way

                                           As time passed by

                                         the road ascended

                                     Obstacles less frequent

                                  but harder to pass

                               And at times

                             I needed the

                           places of refuge

                         respite and care

                       offered to me by

                     Friends along the way

                 I’ve come to the crest

               of the mountain

             I’ve climbed

           As I look down below

         I see all of the

       barriers crossed

     the challenges I met

   and the lessons I learned

 I will never forget those

Friends along the way

I’ve bled before,

just not that color.

It’s the shade

I was missing

in my world.

I’ve bled the sickly yellow of fear

and the desolate blue of sadness,

the empty grey of loneliness

and the worn out brown of long years

of waiting.

I’ve bled the bluish purple of pain

and the emerald green of envy,

the dark scarlet of anger

and the all-consuming black

of depression.

I’ve bled the purplegreengold

sparkles in my vision

as I fell asleep

to dream of a life that

I couldn’t live.

I’ve bled the tarnished silverpink

of a love that I thought

was real but was

an illusion/delusion

and abusive and wrong.

I’ve bled the dusky rainbows

of confusion and turmoil

and the toxic hues

of insanity and dis-ease

and death.

I’ve bled the colors

until they ceased existing

and I would have joined them,

but I finally bled

the blood red of life.

I’ve bled red twice now

and the colors are back,

sharp and crisp

and bright and airy

and joyful.

The people

are kind

gentle

content

for the most part

until of course

the patrol comes by

to force everyone

to move to one side

or the other