Onward trudges the old warrior, on his hands and knees in pain.
Through hardship and loss, sorrow and grief, over and over again.
Through the darkest of nights, and the blistering days, through the muck and the mire of rain.
He prays he can stop, take a break from his quest, a reprieve from the nerve wrenching pain.
But onward he pushes on sore bleeding hands in hopes of escaping this place where he lives, known as the “Great Wastelands.”
He’s been moving forward for all of his life, but the borders they just never change.
No matter how far or long that he travels, it’s somehow always the same.
There’s places so bleak it’s an assault to the mind,
And can nearly drive you insane, but there’s beauty and peace when expected the least, but it is always fading away.
The dark shades the furthest corners, that can’t hold or reflect light, or you can walk in the sunshine for many a day, but you’re never far from the night.
So trudge forward brave and battered soul,
If peace is what you’re hoping to find,
But just remember there is really no end.
To these “wastelands” we keep in our minds.
We the proud and peaceful people, the people of the land. Our home, the great open plans. Our people seek only to honor, the Great Mother, the land on which we live. Woman, children, our old, our brave, we are many, but we are few. They come in peace, so they say. The whites and their Chief. When all is said and done, my people the old the young the woman and braves, now lay still on the snow covered ground. My people have all crossed over. We are no more.
We were young men all, eager to honor our country, proud and brave. There they stood, by the side of the road, the poor the sick, peaceful and proud. He gave the order, free them all, we looked at each other, hearts pounding. Do it now, he yelled, we did our duty for honor. The trench dug, the area cleared. Orders followed, A village gone.
The peaceful stood on the gently sloping ground, arms locked and love in their hearts. Proud to band together against the injustices of war. To show there is a better way. As always, as in the past, they come. The fresh young faces, and their chief. They say they come in peace, when all is over four lie dead. Does it ever change, can we never learn? Will the power of love, ever become stronger than the love of power. or are we to proud?
At the zoo, all joy and fun, mama
Mama can I feed the seals, please please
Please. But there’s only one fish and two seals
Mama why did you hit me I only bit the
Fish in half so I could feed them both.
The house is so lonely these days,
I wish I could leave it but I can’t,
Too scared, too shaky, wife and family
All gone, I really hate being alone
Sitting in the hospital room drinking
Water out of one of those cheap plastic
Pitchers. My best friends gone, I’ll miss
You dad, well at least I won’t have to
Sit here anymore.
Here I sit on the park bench, I wonder
Where all the time has gone. Check out all
The birds on the telephone line, Its so
Weird bird, bird, bird – space bird, bird
Space, space, bird, bird space, and so it
Goes all the way down the line
I sure wish someone wouldn’t have
Shot all those missing birds
*Dedicated to: The Dreamers,
My brother inmates, and all those
Who dream of freedom
Once I was in a place where all things
Once I was in a place where a person
Had no limits and could reach for the sky
Once I was in a place where there was
Adventure around every corner
Where safety and security was wherever you
Made it so.
Once I was in a place where food and drink
Was abundant, where people smiled and laughed
With you, not at you.
Where hope was eternal, and love and
Peace was yours if you wanted it.
This place was not in a dream, and it was
Not heaven, it was as real as this day.
I was in this place once, where is this
Land of wonder you ask?
Why it’s just on the other side of this fence
Winter winds can fan the embers, bitter cold can
Kill the flame.
I’ve seen the spark of life within us, I’ve watched
From the distance a violent blaze
Never have I felt the heat of life’s passion
I’ve always lived life outside the circle,
To have been in its light, but never its warmth.
Love has always been the iceberg which destroyed
When I was young I could see the sparks, but
Icy tendrils always encumbered my soul.
Now life is short, and my heart feels
Like cold winter embers, no heat left, no spark to kindle
Just once in this life I would have loved to feel
The heat from inside the circle and its warm embrace.
But now and forever all I have left is the
Encircling comfort of the cold
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