My Lonely Road

A Poem by Joseph Baker

a little bit inspired by a very odd dream...

I see the sun's blinding shadow
cast across the moon
And I wonder
if it will all be over soon.
The wind from the blue sky
buries me like the waves
of the blue sea, rolling
over,
over,
dragging under and drowning me.
The air of this warm night
chills me to the core
like the hard, biting storms
of ancient winter's lore.
The warm summer rain
falls beating down on me.
My hear groans in pain
from the burdens I carry.
There is no rest
no place to lay my head.
Instead I run from the truth,
run until I'm dead.

These empty streets are a comfort
if there can be such a thing
and for a fleeting moment
my spirits take to wing.
But they come crashing
down,
down,
back onto me.
Their failed flight of love
helps me the truth to see:
There is no one to hold me,
and my aching heart still bleeds.
Nobody to comfort me in my fears
no shoulder where to lay my head.
Nobody to wipe away my tears
My heart has fallen, dead.

My anger and hate become my seers,
my food is smoke and lead.
I pull myself away again,
back from the very edge
and balance for a fleeting moment
on this crumbling ledge.

Though I look up for a savior,
I know its down below
that my soul, heart, and body,
all soon will go.
There is no hope, of that I'm sure.
My doom has already been sealed.
And though its dark form hides in the shadows,
it has already been revealed.
But if there was someone out there
who from myself could save me
I still know
That I would not know
how past my anger to see.

No, the only one that in the end
would be worse than when we began
would be the one
who reached out
and lent me a saving hand.