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Time faded, days delayed
Plagued by an ever-present vague suspicion
A haunting conscience prevalent in such
On the quest for justice,
While never questioning righteousness or morality.
Innocent blood is shed, while the corrupt drink poison
Straight from gold chalices of deceit,
And still remain stronger than death itself.
When a heart surges with war and not love;
In the absence of passion, cruel dignity reigns supreme.
Casting shadows over evil secrets,
Dragons that cannot be slain.
Crossing the border between friend and foe
In the dead of night. Suppressing fear and cherishing armor.
Realizing that there is only one hero
And a thousand nameless faces, like my own.
The sky weeps with an agonizing storm,
Concealing the pain which reflects our own
Distressed song, easily denied and easily forgotten.
Days spent waiting in vain
For a tale of endearment to arise,
One powerful enough
To break the foreboding chains that bind all of humanity.
Delicate in that our permanent stains
Hinder our ability to give out trust
Effortlessly. And in the reflection of a broken sword,
I do not see my own pain,
But the silent suffering of a
Thousand untold tales.
Oh, how effortless it is,
In theory to stare a monster right in the eye.
And how simple it really is to place
A dagger forth into the very core of
Wrongdoings. But, my, what a complexity,
What an unexpected, unpronounced difficulty
It is to silence one’s voice.
What foolish insanity would it be to scream,
To leave, only to realize that love cannot be ignored.
And even in dreams deterred
That undeniable truth is revealed.
For it is not vast treasure nor majestic
Land that we truly seek. Alas, what our weary
Souls yearn for most is simply peace.