Coming Home

Manifold darkness,

hiding in shadow

with the cold breeze of practiced indifference

guarding against the trickle

of a bleeding heart.

The ice encases

and stills the slow march of death

until a cure

can match

the ailing, the failing

of this treacherous

world, which drowns you

with its malice filled devices.

The shame you wear

as evidence of your faith,

this suffering

that defines the most sacred

of your vices,

whispers a verdict unbearable...

I am not enough

to quell this hate filled silence.

Soldiers must bear their cross alone

to be worthy of the affliction,

walk through this searing firmament

plodding out the tune of

their most cherished malady.

If solace waits

by a wayside beckoning with warm firelight,

it is not for them

but shines its light

that by it others see.

If when this bosom heaves a breath 

and asks you to come in

only scorn will answer.

Of all the injuries,

the hardest for me to bear

is that you must walk alone.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

this suffering

that defines the most sacred

of your vices,

whispers a verdict unbearable
An awesome write. Thank you for sharing...