My Darker Half

Praying for help....

Dear God,

I hope you're not too busy for the mind don't often rest,
I come to You today cause my resolve's turned off and left,
my little brother's killing has my spirit chalked and bagged,
I feel my heart and soul held captive by my darker half.

I find it's always nighttime when my mind's eye do reflect,
I still can't sleep and when I do my mind finds Moobie's death,
among the major topics in those things we're told are dreams,
I can't sew up my sanity because there are no seams.

I drift and when I come to there's a pistol in my hand,
I fight the impulse every day to go and get this man,
or men who put those bullets in his body; nothing's left,
the only thing that stops me Lord is Tia; sudden death,

is something I no longer fear since I'm no longer here,
the "James" that people know has washed away among the tears,
my spirit cries to see them die; there aint much left to do,
but close my eyes and pray that I receive some help from You.

My darker side is winning like the score's a hundred zip,
I feel like Lionel Richie cause my core is running with,
the night and playing in the shadows; to myself I hope,
that you can see my words Dear God then come and help me cope....

Pray for me.

©2013
The Cunning Linguist

Author's Note

This is a very personal piece that I wrote while coming to grips with my little brother's death.