We stand,
Drawn ahead by the light,
We seek it,
It shines for us like a seductive saviour,
Because in it, we see repentance.
We walk,
Pushed forward by the screams of our pasts,
We move on,
It is what we are raised to do,
Because looking back would hurt too much.
As is the attraction and rejection of living,
An insurmountable sensation,
Like iambic pentameter of a Shakespearean play,
We are loathe to stray from it,
So we draw from what we have learned,
Our trials, our triumphs, our "not-quite-enoughs",
But we never turn back,
We keep our eyes to the sunrise,
Because we have nothing if not hope,
Of a better day.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
We stand,
Drawn ahead by the light,
We seek it,
It shines for us like a seductive saviour,
Because in it, we see repentance.
We walk,
Pushed forward by the screams of our pasts,
We move on,
It is what we are raised to do,
Because looking back would hurt too much.
As is the attraction and rejection of living,
An insurmountable sensation,
Like iambic pentameter of a Shakespearean play,
We are loathe to stray from it,
So we draw from what we have learned,
Our trials, our triumphs, our "not-quite-enoughs",
But we never turn back,
We keep our eyes to the sunrise,
Because we have nothing if not hope,
Of a better day.
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