The Skin Is Thin But Life May Be Resumed

We wrap our wounds in any kind of rag Till we can make it off the battlefield We walk for hours till we fall to the ground To harsh fear and weakness, we must yield Some dare not remove the dirty cloth Afraid of what confronts their nervous eye Some tear if off and start to bleed again. And seeing this, they weep and wish to die. A time will come when intuition tells We’ve reached the central space where we will see. The wound’s not killed us, so we hold our breath. Wishing not to fall in apathy. The lines and shape of face display the wound The skin is thin, but life may be resumed