Poetry

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High above the lonely suburbs
I stand there, alone, and look out
No trees, no life, not even birds
No noise except my silent shout
All but streetlights extinguish
The darkness falls like a mask
Hiding the earths face of anguish
“Why all the suffering?” I ask

But nobody hears, nobody cares
My questions die on my lips
Because no one else is there
I’m reading from unwritten scripts
This song is my own, none other’s
I sing to ease pain on this earth
The pain of my sisters and brothers
Only I see a melody’s worth

I reach out my hands to this world
Hands scarred by a fight I must win
In those hands a baton still twirls
But rejected love rages within
Conducting for blinded musicians
I have hardly begun to achieve
The greatest of my great ambitions
To bring hope to those who still grieve

Then as I watch hope ignites
A brilliant blade appears
Piercing the heart of this night
Will they finally notice the tears?
The sunrise, like avenging fire
Blazes across distant sky
My voice soars higher and higher
Hoping someone will hear my cry

The cry of a heart that bleeds
For those who I cannot protect
I need more than fingered prayer beads
I need something more like respect
How to give what is not wanted?
To heal those who admit no pain?
Despite all this, I am undaunted
One day I will remove this stain

The world will sing in harmony
When I finally succeed
Like ebony and ivory
All races renouncing their greed
The Fallen One - my greatest foe
Spreads dissonance like disease
But pain will reach a crescendo
And bring Him to his knees

When all have the seen the truth of life
And heard the last cadence
The truth will cut them like a knife
Only suffering awaits them hence
So on I sing to those still deaf
With my persecuted choir
I see only one option left
To save them all from fire

So I play the painful concerto
To succeed in my final goal
It was written for me alone
And played to make the broken whole
My voice was broke, harsh as I wept
I spread my arms and bowed my head
But the power of love I had still kept
I died, but am no longer dead

Now all required for them to gain
The priceless joy of release
Is that they hear my note of pain
And help complete my masterpiece
Then on that day when mortals fade
They will escape the righteous wrath
Of him to whom they humbly prayed
And wisely chose the narrow path

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