The Nudge

Desolation smoothed at the calming of the swell, begrudgingly accepted solitude, vacationed in Hell, nails are sore and broken from the scratching of the well, strengths gained through weakness? Only time can tell. Inhalation of mist so that I may envision, a clarity, a beauty, an historic masochistic decision, a heart, a soul, birthing from an optimistic excision, building blocks erected, no hope nor want for precision. I walk now, I breathe the air that others may begrudge, this history within me, in the grand scheme is just a smudge, a beautiful mind now thinks of me, and with her thoughts I budge, for sometimes to be strong again, you need an aiding nudge. The sky looks so much brighter now as I search it for my star, darkness and clouds need not affect the people who we are, I have learned to look beyond the dark, to a new and fresh bazaar, I sound so much more beautiful now as I sing to my guitar. My layers peeled and my inside revealed, this look suits me now, no need to yield or keep afield, nor take a solemn vow, to the ghost of death that stole my breath, It's retreat I do allow, as now I am bare and I'm suited right there, I am happy again somehow.