RIDING THE STORM
I recall a day some time ago,
A sky ice blue and chaste.
Gentle winds stirred in accord with
The warmth of the sun I faced.
I recall the faces of that day,
Pride lead the caravan.
As one by one they turned away
While disease crept upon this man.
I recall the sun setting over clouds,
A brilliant portrait on the sky.
And how chilly the wind became
Watching it slowly die.
I recall a voice, distinguished words,
That touched my heart, now wrought in stone.
Compelling me to walk the night
In search of something all my own.
Then strange silence, a palpable sensation,
A kiss from the dead upon my lips.
A curse to carry, a dream to bury,
By the hush of bleeding fingertips.
I recall the blast, a lightning flash,
Exhilaration from depths of the dark.
One thousand one, Thor's hammer stung!
It seems the storm had found its mark.
I recall looking unto the sky,
The rain of tiny stones pelting my face.
Laughter falling within the night,
To mask my earlier disgrace.
I recall calling, crying, screaming,
I recall no answer ever came.
In loss of time, dying or dreaming,
In loss of life, in loss of name.
And now, the winds, they ride ferocious.
Stability collapses at my side.
Where darkened moments of confusion,
Show no man's a man without his pride.
I recall balance escaping me
Stumbling, fumbling, falling from grace.
Reaching for strength in a foreign pillar,
Turning dust, staring me in the face.
I recall the words, (love, honor, cherish),
Turned abandonment in time of need.
By the dagger which cut my heart out,
Gutted my soul, left me to bleed.
My fair-weather friends, fiendish and foul,
All in line while I had to give.
Couldst thou not look upon me now,
That once again I may live?
For now I stand cold, numb, and senseless,
Faceless shadows encircling my soul.
Been days, been years, I can't recall
The last moment I may have seemed whole.
Looking at my hands, the wounds have healed,
But the scars are too tender to touch.
And my stomach still squeams as I drift off to dreams
Of something I never needed to need so much.
Am I riding the storm, or is this storm riding me?
Am I standing my ground or standing in the grave?
For Time and life just keep rolling along,
Dragging me behind in the chains of a slave.
Not sure where I'm going, I only know where I've been.
I look to the horizon, the sun kissing the sky.
If my own destiny, if not change it now, when?
I'm breaking these chains, it's time to learn how to fly!
For all behind was dark and drear,
And all before was night and fear.
How many hours of night or day
In those suspended pangs I lay,
I could not tell; I scarcely knew
If this were human breath I drew.