That Was Then, This Is Now
In the wind that blows with the rain
is a man with a past very dark
lonesome he was, and in pain
through years all fruitless and stark
now, life for him is beautiful and new
the tears and fears of old have no power
the long journey is nearly through
as the gale becomes a spring shower
this life has in cycles and circles been led
round and round, up and down, before and after
countless are the tears he has shed
yet sometimes smiles too, and laughter
once a beggar, then a king, then a beggar again
in ignorance and blindness he once stumbled
now dimly seeing, the man does begin
to awaken and realize how he tumbled
it was drugs! it was drink!
it was "i"
he barely noticed the brink
then, shuddering, he...
looked forward, and then peered behind
seeing nothing, then looking back he recoiled
he had been no king, noble and kind
but a knave, a slave, still bleeding and soiled
so close to his grave, yet so far from his heart
ruled by feelings, urges, and addictions
and attended by demons, all playing a part
in dramatic delusions, and fantastic fictions
thinking life was lost, and the end was near
all was in vain, and no credit was due
he set out to change from need and from fear
and he stumbled some more it is true
but that first moment of sight will never be over
a feeling worse than can be described
once a carefree wanderer and restless rover
he became an accuser who couldn't be bribed
that was then, this is now
and i have reason to believe
the way is clear, and is how
to renew, not to fail, or to grieve
and one fine day, clear and bright
the light will grace his rising frace
what was wrong will be right
and he will be done with the chase
Copyright © Solomon Storm | Year Posted 2010
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