A moment, a day, a month, a year
I don't have it in me to care
Perhaps I cared too much
That much is clear
Too little too late
I was always here
I'll keep living
In this glass globe of all I've ever feared.

Muck and stench,
This war's hell bent
On taking our lives away.
This is a soldier's game,
One never meant for men
Even in the darkest day
Hell has no hold on us
The devil has already had his way.
Kneel down and pray,
The sun kisses your face,
And your brother lies awake.
Eyes wide open
Take me away.

Winter's tears,
Shed like the dying day
Until the moon rises
And the wolf calls home.
A child dreams,
Walking in certainty of all that never is.

I walked in the hills by my home,
I heard a whisper in the trees and stepped closer to see,
A vulture talking to me.
"Do you think they know?" He asked as I watched him pick flesh from bone,
A carcass decayed and old.
It was a sickening sight to behold.

"It shouldn't bother you so." He said.
"The grass and trees. Do you think they know?" He asked again.
I shook my head, confused.
"Where the soil and nutrients come from in which they grow?" He asked

I listened to this bird as he scavenged from death.
I thought him mad,
But as he spoke I saw the wisdom of his words,
"Dead things come to grow and life never goes."
I watched him eat his fill,
And it was no longer ugly but a beautiful thing.

I walked away wondering if they know,
If any know how we grow.
From soil on mountain peaks to the river that flows,
Death is only fear of change from what we think we know.

The poet's day is after we've gone away,
Our words left to read
By the hurt and strayed.
A little map of words
Guiding you through the darkest day.
Saying someone else once felt this way,
And no matter how much time passes
When someone turns to us with utter dismay,
We offer our hearts for all to see
And remind you of an old adage,
Nothing new under the sun.
As poets we write so when we go away
A little piece of us will stay,
To share your pain and express joy in all you do.

It's a bitter potion
It sours my stomach and taints my mind
Hovering over me in the dark of night
I remind myself it's an enemy I have faced before,
"Nothing is to be feared", I whisper
No matter the lies it says,
I tell myself to sleep but know I won't
I settle for waging war against myself
These anxious thoughts shout a battle cry.
There is a war waging in my mind
I hear the battle cry
I don't need any to confirm or deny
Anxiety is in my mind
So I put on my helmet and strap a weapon to my thigh
I never really hung up the uniform of my soldiering time
I settle in for the long battle into day.

A voice echoed in the dark,
Even through the light of day
It was smooth and cut deep
Making my skin crawl and eyes weep,
It pries at my deepest thoughts and sweetest dreams
Of all that is and will never be,
When it comes I grimace and wait
For the five words it always says,
"Does it make you hate?"