Above I stare in question,
My senses tightly barred.
It’s cowardly egression –
I hope they won’t discard.
I stare above with sorrow,
My chest a bleeding hole.
I pray for better morrow,
For tired, ripped, blind soul.
The skies are grimly mocking,
Stare back at me and smirk.
My demons quickly flocking,
Admiring their work.
I glare and scream my question,
My voice is swept by wind.
It is an act of cession,
My fighting spirit dims.
I slide back down to nothing,
My gaze falls to the ground.
The skies knew I was bluffing,
All things come back around.
I steel myself. I’m ready –
To pay for glaring sin.
Skies whispered, sounding edgy:
“Search for the light within.”
