A Reckoning of Silence

August 3, 2011
By , Flin Flon, Canada
The words are always churning, spinning deep inside my brain.
My words will not be heard, for her I will refrain. But I beg…

Take this weight off of my shoulders, this pain from my knees.
God knows it is unhealthy, but it’s past killing me.

If I was to ever write a will, if life ever went awry.
I’d ask you to save your tears there are better men than I.

For behind each masks a story, a tale from long ago,
Of mistakes I’ve made, people I’ve seen, burdens I’ve forever stowed.

Yet the past is what made us, in the game of who made who.
My demons are coming to this surface swimming right in front of you.

Breaking water, breaking skin, my heart is straining soft beneath,
The shallow stills of the silence the cold is gnawing at my teeth.

And with every chance I get I’m just closing another door.
Another day, another scar, beneath it I find more.

Each one of us has demons, our dark shadows on the wall.
Do you have someone to confide in? When its all about to fall?

These words are more than that, my release, my letting go.
But I will always remember the night so long ago.

When all was right and yet so wrong I was stupid. Blind not to see.
The destruction I was causing, and the pain that was to be.

Yet the past is in the past a forsaken, broken road.
A road that we all travel when there’s nowhere else to go

But we move on, seeking more, at least, that’s what I believed.
I’m sitting on the shoulder just talking to the trees…

And as my demons course through me, as though they’re water down a drain
I know that this might not mean a thing. They’re merely words upon a page.

And yet my vision’s blurry, for its midnight central time
I cannot tell, blood, sweat or tears, as I keep going down the line.

Of these simple things that make me think. What are hours in a day?
A time to love? A time to live? Am I just throwing mine away?

They could serve a better purpose maybe give them to a friend?
A joyful soul forever lost, she’ll be remembered ‘til the end.

For an August night four months, almost to the day
A shining star had been taken, for her we had to pray…

Our friends will hold us ever near, far from the fire and her flames
But are we ever safe when we’ve pushed them all away?

For I feel like I’m still digging, my pit of hopes and fears,
I never stop, this never fades, it’s been going on for years.

But all our hope is not yet lost, there’s still light in our dark days
When that someone offers you their hand, but you push them away.

Was it really their own fault? Can you survive another day?

I still hold anchor to a far-gone ship, one that’s leading me astray
Why can’t I just let go? What the hell is left say?

For I’m forever drifting in an ocean we know as Life,
All my saviours have been betrayed, severed with a knife

With all of my uncertainty, and emotions that count for s***,
Is this really all there is for me? Of course. There is no perfect fit.

As we are surely setting course, for what we’ll certainly become,
With all of our own challenges, we will head towards the sun.

I know, with my own course, its set squarely to the North,
I will fight for our country. I will be sent to war.

I can’t make much for promises, but once I do return,
I’ll make the most out of my time, this lesson I have learned.

Death is not what frightens me. This lesson I’ve had ingrained.
Losing someone is what’s killing me, someone that I could have saved.

I feel my demons coming to rest, among this pile of remains,
Composed of hopes and dreams, I rest amongst this grave.

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