My battle weary body
collapses... tired.
Sleep escaping...
sad thoughts
circling,
torturing,
punishing,
like a train
aiming for
my brain.
I’m gripped,
by age old fears,
while shedding tears
through all these years
which never end.
If only this were:
… a bad dream;
… a tired scream
that’s dying
from within.
But it’s not,
it’s
…a hurting soul
…not yet whole
Paying,
a high cost.
with life & thoughts
for caring
and loving
when it should have not.
Its new pain…
like an old refrain
playing endlessly
without restrain.
Comfort can’t be found
in memories,
nor in those that live
for they so easily
can deceive.
Instead,
I turn to God,
my source for all,
who provides,
healing love,
and patience
from above.
~ me ~ 1.31.07