Anxious Dissolution

IV A soul was broken to make room For dusty halls and labyrinths. A gossamer, nylon bed-sheet shroud Enwraps the remnants of that mind. And no excuses can be made; This disease does not justify that one. I do not sleep deeply, I do not wake easily, I dream of cities built on sand, Next to the swelling sea. Oh, they should have lasted. Why should they fall? I dream of timber horses, Brought between those city walls. We should have known; we should have known better. III But, I am not an honest mystic; Beware what you ask of me. I will show truths within the liar's tapestry. But, you will not believe; no, you cannot believe. II I howled for my motherland When the mutiny began. I heard the cry of treason; heard the cry and ran. I saw blood be spilled, Some of it my own, then Felt the rest boil, that this could happen in my home. I saw the battle through, until the very end, Then wished the traitors pardoned, Because they were my friends. I I cannot tell the difference Between the sleeping and the dead, So, I will dole out blankets, and keep the kettle on. The streets are cracked and dirty, And they all appear the same: Shattered glass and roofing tacks Where I place my bare and weary feet. I don't want to go on. But, I must rebuild; I must rebuild. I have no grass to lay, The trees and flowers will not grow, So, I shall use nothing, but mortar, brick, and stone. It's not the same; it is not the same, But, I shall call it home.