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.