the broken soldier never comes home
- original fiction: poetry: rhyme scheme

- series: metaphors for a lost childhood; 2; anger

be all your sins remembered

be all your paths unpaved

and everything you wish to find
hallowed and unscathed

the soldier he is weeping and the ashes burn his eyes

the mother she is seeking but she's finding only lies.

be all your stones unhandled

and all your fingers furled 

the lover's heart is waiting, hollowed out and burled.

the light is softly creeping through the crack beneath the door

the darkness it is wreaking with the stench of open sores.

be all your cloaks unwoven
be all your matches made

be all the sketches of the dead scattered and mislaid.

the mother she is running, running fleeing from her dreams

the soldier he is humming, humming fraying at the seams.

be all your aims resistant 

be all your hope unharmed

the lover she is captured, beaten and disarmed. 

the mother she is pacing with the phone against her ear

the soldier he is baiting, waiting, breathing out the fear.

the light is fast retreating through a ripple in the sky

the tear you made is fraying and the rage is rising high 

against the dark you seek to find the soldier with his gun

he's laid down arms 

and buried prayers 

and told his lover,
run.

be all your anger buried

be all your sorrows hushed 

be all your guilt unstirred 

and all your pity crushed.

let all the words we never said 

lift sun-scorched wings to fly

be all my sins remember'd

but let this last one lie.

© catherine
2009