Trenches
Though my eyes are open
I am still sleeping through dreams so vile
They leave me weeping,
And forced alone upon suffering in silence
Battling matter of dying and vicious violence,
And though to most the silence soothes
To me it hinders,
And attains more suffering that pain shall prove.
Still, my body is warm,
And I do remain breathing, yet,
Inside be unrest and onset of seething –
Lathers of sin and pain and torrential rain.
It saddens me greatly, this darkened soul
I am left to bare down this silenced hole
Filled with the grief and the guilt
That only I have built,
Amongst the rage and anger
Unbeknown to most, my head be the host
Of the most horrific tragedy,
Like the walking wounded, and I’ll break,
Giving in to the everlasting battle –
Through the trenches of hell, where I first fell.
Copyright © Aron Murray | Year Posted 2011
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