Bring Hope to Dire
What if I told you I'm sorry
What if I told you I failed
What if I told you I'm heartsick
For my hearts' in a jail
A jail that is my body
A jail that is
my torn off wings
A jail that has me haughty
for only that kind is
what it brings ..
and this won't serve us well
it's not a place to dwell
it's really a private hell
in spite of the pride that swells..
When the pills
become an excuse
and the glib, flippant thrills
come only from the use
It's just the easier, softer way
and it will never pay
anyone, anything, anyhow
accept a coroner
taking a vow
...and so...
the time
is never now!
I don't need a priest
to say thy will be done
I'm looking for
my kingdom come
in the dark, without sun
In this dark, the only light
is the fire that ignites
and it burns on my skin
like 1000 pushpins
and it grows from the wind
of the shame for the 'sin' ...
yes, they did light a match,
then they poured down the gin,
and it melted my candle wax
when I let them in, to win
but please, fire, go dim
rain on me like a hymn!
Be an ember at best
before you take all the rest
of what is left of me ..
of the last standing tree
dark tree, dark tree
I heard you whisper
heard you whisper
in the glow
I heard you whisper
in the know
but do I listen?
oh, no..
Well this time I need to listen
and I need the moon to glisten
over the cold, misty lake
without it's light, it could be fate
like off the peer and too late
cause I can't swim in ice
and I can't keep
rolling the dice
on the gameboard of strife
that is playing with my life..
So
What if I told you I'm sorry
for playing the foreboding game
for curling up under the blanket
amid the storm and the rain
when it's one that's known to suffocate
while laughing at what it's slain
and what if I reach - to rip it off!
then what if I walk through the storm
would it be enough to redeem the forlorn?
would it be enough to be saved and reborn?
Can I be strong enough to stave
off the comfort, that I crave
and walk on through pain, brave
- then again, I need more than brave..
I can't see when I'm covered
I can't walk through, to the other side
I can't share, but I hide
remain taken on
a bad trip ride
Muffled are the voices
that chant the right choices
If I can't walk through the rain
then I'll perish in vain
and remember how the rain
was called to put out the fire
to bring growth
in place of desire
and so then
bring hope to dire
Scarlit-Rose Ashcraft (formerly Rose Guedes)
February 18th 2021