On the battlefield healers move disturbed by carnage;yet, they still move forward. |
Shaman I want your skin pressed against mine But what’s the cost for a pleasure Distance, a mutation of self Roles being reversed Confidence shattered Obligatory comfort, consoling you When night falls and just you And I remain undisturbed Patch you up only to watch You walk out into suicide To be left stained crimson Drenched in the remnants Of another’s pain Words like I disappear Everything begins with “you” Against “them” Never with “us” How can you protect This thing growing inside me When actions are As false as the words Lips part, breath moving barely Body caving inward at each word “You let me love you, only till” Constricted, the cold steel cutting in Shoulders shudder at the breath “The pain is bearable, eases just enough” Time stands still Perfectly still Until I raise a bloody hand To wipe sweat shined brow Painting pale skin The color of a sunrise Renewed hope does not Stem from the twisted Desire to hold you once more This alien feeling of security Drowning out whimpering sounds The pungent stench of puss, Blood oozing from those wounds Eyes drift upward with a smile Relief as every angry fiber dissolves Every thread of self returns Night runs from Apollo I stand with blood dried Coating cloth and flesh And not even that could Detract from the warmth Of the dawn taking hold of “me” |