Getting There
Delicate in his steps ethereal to the world around him
Each breath silent followed by another pause
Depressions his quest he battles, these mountains he climbs are full of caves within their hollow form
Getting there he quietly speaks, repeating this again for the millionth time
Hidden behind a wall unbreached he stays at war with his civilian cry
Try to stay strong he thinks allowed to himself again
Try to have strength to get through another day
Each hour passes attempting to break the wall he's built
Deliverering new senses to heighten all he feels
No need to return to the first minute he strayed
No need to begin over, no need to engage
Craving what he left, does he need to submit and givin in to this feeling of the demon within
The demons with him he feels him inside fighting with his spirit for triumph, over time the darkness crept in he kept his goal in his sight, became the sniper positioned to change the course of his life
Espy them sights from a mile behind
Decribe what you see close by when descried
Never leaving this third eye blind so said what he saw in his mind when aligned with the vibe in gut with the words that he rhymed, entwined with his vision of death he espied
Though didn't collide, no trigger was bribed, nothing expired or fired that night
The night that was cold and unseen like black ice
And the poetry he spoke was pure and alive
Copyright © Sam Perkins | Year Posted 2018
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