Between my lashes I see Death.
I feel It suspended above me, masking my eyes.
The iced winter air won't be the only to take lives.
    I have no excuse.
They scream, but who is to help them?
"Blessed are those who Mourn, for they shall be Comforted"
    But who truly feels the Lords warm embrace?
    Who truly feels saved?
For those who starve, are pushed out of our minds.
    The holiday season would be ruined with the grip of Death.
Those who weep, receive no shoulders.
    But are ignored, who has the time?
We scream to the clouds, begging an answer.
A sign,
Anything to prove we aren't wasting our time.
But those who starve, still starve.
Those who weep, still feel the warm tears.
     And we have no excuse.
Again we beg and plead to our "Merciful Lord"
    But who hears an answer?
Mary's bleeding Hands and Feet?
We bare false witness to hide our fear.
    So if He wont Comfort the Mourning,
   Should we do it ourselves?

              *Does anyone feel saved?