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May 2020
Cold
That was all I felt
Not a broken bone or wounded flesh
Just cold
I'm breathing heavy but I'm not panicking
My breath forms a cloud around my face
Before disappearing into the fading skyline
I knew something was wrong
I knew because there was nothing wrong with me

My eyes were polluted with the sight of death
Carnage at my feet
Life leaving their blood and bone host
Lives more important than mine
Yet I was chosen
I was the one fate decided to keep
It were as if hands were plunged into the mud and grief
To spare me the tarnish
The light in the dark hollow
Or the dark in the light bastion

A void captured my true emotions
Holding them captive until I figure it out
The papers had their stories of me
"Miracle Man" they called me
The one death forgot
The one who escaped a tragedy
Without a scratch to show truth
A walking folklore
A bedtime story for the kids
Any other man would have felt blessed
Lucky or even grateful perhaps
I just felt cold

Sleep became a chore, and the bottom of the pint became my guilt
One day I bring my gaze from upon my mug
To see a man dressed in purpose
A man with a stare
A man with a story
A man of pain and misfortune
He didn't have to say anything
He knew
I knew
We could feel it
The cold followed us, ever looming on our shoulders bare
Through those blank faces that torment our memories
Constantly reminding us of the burden we choose to carry
Through all the dust, fire, and filth there stood us

Anomalies
Cardboard-Jones
Written by
Cardboard-Jones  M
(M)   
254
 
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