Poetry

---

Rearview

The folding of my arms
Has caused me to lose my resolve
with tears and spine broken
I left my body behind
as a final token
of the Dark Shadows of who I was
the blanket covers the lies
but the truth burns the bridge
there I am, juxtaposed
on the metaphor Ridge
looking for the rearview
waiting for the whisper
asking me the who are you?
no answer no answer
know the answer before the question
the dawn arises
over turbulent Horizons
as fear interprets the heartbeat
looking at the Fire Sky
impatient in the backseat
a passive complainer
in the plot of this life
loving War, loving hate
holding hands with
monster strife
how does this building Sway
in the highest winds?
Standing stoic amongst the relics monuments of memories,
no footsteps fall
within the empty Halls
no going back, no reaching in
taking the Wants
out of the rear view,
time is lost, there comes a cost
I hear no pay, my soul is tossed.
Where is the mighty hand?
Have I seen the colour Mercy?
Did I bury in the concrete
the giftings that Define me?
Strike me, fight me,
all that is good for me,
strike me, pierce my side,
cause my feet to stumble
over the illusions of my pride
hide in caves, oh, watch the Lord go by, on Cliffs of fault
I find my footing,
pictures paint the ending
before first breath is drawn
deep in the faded past
lies my answers in
the broken rear view
in the shadows of
the Fire Dawn

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE AS A MEMBER OR VISITOR