-Princess of Wails-

I've been suffering here, a fog to the clear
and I'm deaf to hear, the sound of your heart
and I tried to breathe, but too thick to see
I drown in humidity, and I call it art
they misunderstand, my grip on the man
an arthritic hand, holding you close
despite the pain, sanctuary in feigned
and what remains for me, is what I want most
there's only one mistaking, recluse in the making
I don't know what's awaking, somewhere inside
but it's voice is loud, an internal bow
wailing how proud, it feels to cry
I am crimson-made, chilled in the shade
and knowing I came, with many weak limbs
but it's been said and been done, and still I've found no one
who can hold a gun, to being with him
ashamed as I have, I just want something back
and it's human to laugh, as love is mine too
and maybe all is in greed, hidden by misbelief
and cloaked in need, all pertaining to you
vain was pushing on, when you said it was gone
and my perfect calm, was pushed into storm
myself in a war, with myself I'm sure
and I've lost so much more, than I was prepared to mourn
are we holding for life, watching forever's disguise
and in everything I've, silently returned
back to being able to move, and with nothing as proof
I can't fall too close to you, I shriek what I've learned
unsure from alarm, I tried and cheated karma
what if you and I aren't, as simple as us?
have I already failed? sorry, I was tangled in sails
and the awakened wails, cries for help from the grief
with this vessel afloat, the sea leaves me to my own
and I'm afraid that you won't, join me in belief
if you had the eyes, to see how close to goodbye
I saw myself to come to rise, you'd be seeing too much
I'd be broken to shards, you must pardon the scars
but silence is hard on my heart, drawn in for trust
companionless also, I've hidden in swallow
and drawn all my swords low, while dropping my dreams
after watching them live, passion progressive
I have let myself give, up and into my demons
and I am struck with release, as ease turns to leave
hold on to me, kept secure and kept fastened
inside out and in knots, "He is wrong," I thought
my advice from God, was: Cast away from him.

Copyright 1999 by Susanne Estelle Hendrickson