Candle

How fragile be the human mind,
Ability to imagine the greatest of stories,
And the beautiful expanse of far-off realms.

But there is more to the mind,
The battle for our forgotten souls rages on,
And by ourselves, all we do is struggle.

I once knew something that could ease the pain,
Who gave his arms just to hold me tight,
But darkness still has a hold.

Life is not kind, and spoils over time,
The very people we cherished for so long,
Can be taken in a rush of wind.

Now the light is fading,
And in its place, poison of old will grip me,
Dragging my mind into the abyss.

Why should we be harmed,
If all that comes from it is pain and sorrow?
Why should I endure this war?

They say that time heals all wounds,
But it only numbs the pain, and clots the bleeding,
The scars of the battle will tarnish my flesh.

Why is there no healing,
when mothers weep and soldiers die?
Why is He not here?

But life is unpredictable,
and he moves in the strangest of ways,
Using those around us, to translate his knowledge.

Can I bear the torment,
Of the bloody war for my soul?
Or will I tumble into darkness once again?

Take this mind, and mould
Your very existence into being,
For though I may not see it,
You still live inside of me.

Should darkness take me back,
and all I know separates,
You still hold the candle that can free me from its chains.



For your light will never die.


A Poem dedicated to Michael Brown. May you run home to your Father.