Sunday, June 11, 2017

The Crux

          The Crux




Streams of idle tears flow,
Some people who’d never known,
What pain holds, it won’t let go,
All the scars burning, ever on show.
Tested beyond the point of reason,
Too many tears for any season,
So much cruelty breeding treason,
Not love enough to bring a pleasing.
What am I, a fool for you,
A bag to punch and abuse anew?
On this day where hope is blue,
Left alone to rot, desolation true.
Sacrificed for what and for whom,
Since the light of love left the room,
Everything beautiful ended too soon,
Swept aside with lifes’ stiff broom.

Only the brave shall rest in peace,
But saints and sinners shall increase,
As if the hate knew not release,
And where a love would not appease.
Hanging in the sky so awfully dark,
None are the reasons that I hark,
Light will wane and desert the park,
And snuff the essence of a spark.
Cold and wet comes this evil rain,
Stabbed deep to increase my pain,
None the willing who’d yet refrain,
Tested beyond the call of duty again.
I note the reason to be content,
Never really knowing what this all meant,
Except that love, supposed heaven sent,
Came infrequently, before it up and went.