In the war on myself
Its my dreams that matter
compassion is a choice
I choose to believe or is it that a lie?
In my 30 years or so of life has always been a battle
But my dreams matter
and that “Once upon a time” is a land where my heart exists
But unless I grasp at my ideals I will never reveal
What people think of me
I do love me
In the future I will still take myself to task
It will be clear that I may fail
only fools presume I don’t have the strength to go on.
NOW READ BOTTOM TO TOP.
To go through hell with the lid off
to fight through fire and agony
friends and comrades lost
you cannot count that human cost
to never be forgotten
in a poppy red we are remembered
On the 11th of November.
Dead Gods statues crack eroded by time
I am your nightmare
tears form a weapon
to never stop
I am your communion a blood for wine
we feed on Jesus
whether your faith or mine
Its based on a fallen world
How long have we been in servitude
To a god who puts apples on trees
Then tells us not to eat
I will wage a war on idolatry
our reality is love and light
But we are engaged in a fight
for our sanity.
In the heart aching,shifting
in loves breaking, gifting
In my torn out drifting
of graveyard games
in the Devils tormented names.
Freedoms cut loose
you fight, you don’t fit your obtuse
renegade spitting spirit
Locked out of heaven again
a couple of lovebirds fallen short
In loves painful name calling game
She is a raven
he is a saviour
he is a raven
she is his saviour.
Love can save the boy in his heart
but the warrior enjoys solitude
In the dragon’s cave
can he break her curse
and make it worth
her loving her him
and him loving her.
For we all need to love beyond skin
this aching and burning lies within
When did our yearning to protect and serve
and keep people safe?
turn into rage and wanting danger?
We are no stranger to tragedy
avidly wrestling with our desire for violence
was it taught by society and our father, are they keeping silent?
Soldiers growing colder each day
to the god of man we pray
to teach us a better way.
Anger our, “man up” emotion
lost in its devotion
we need different role models action man won’t cut it.
As we destroy ourselves fighting and wrestling with the anger inside
as we collide with the alternate worlds we hide
inside the potential we have
and are told to bite at ourselves
as “man up” is the only thing we hear
we disappear from the innocence
we held dear
the blood stained tear
gives way more often to anger and fear.
Blood shot eyes
Awake in flashback nightmares
Screaming in silence
Lost in guilt ridden violence
Everyday is a brutal regime
There’s no distinguishing no changing
What I have done
Screaming victims is the war won?
A burning temper
A cold December
I try not to drink.
Realities torment I try not to think
Every time their faces come back to me
I stammer when I talk, I just can’t be
Screaming victim is the war won?
My family tries to support
My ravaged soul
I see the flames
They are burning out if control
In the distance a ray of light
Paralyzed by anxiety
I look to my family
Is the war won?
I am getting beaten
But I won’t back down
I forgive myself
I won’t back away
If there is a god
They’d forgive me I pray
I have let my war fade away…