Fooling clouds
cross my view
passing hurts
and pleasures.
Blue on white
on white on blue,
'till black has
broken through.

I dreamed that
it finally died last night,
that it was truly over.

Waves of guilt and fear
to carry me away,
until I could see no longer
that place I started from,
and I no longer knew
that place I headed to.

Now, I gather stones
for my tomb,
while with willful eyes
study my peers,
lips pursed tight,
they have closed
their hearts,
closed up tight
to my falling tears.

Yes,
it is I,
it is me I cry.
Feeling condemned
by the unspoken lie.
A lie to weigh heavy
on my bent back body.
Heavy as Christ's Cross,
responsible for all souls lost.

Then,
I stumble
and I fall
as I carry
the burden upward
to Golgotha of the Skull.

The ShadowLand,
where grief clings
to my name
and to their person.
Asking of today
to stride with a limp,
and of yesterday,
to crawl and beg.

Forgiveness
would be
the task at hand.
A ticket for
some far and distant shore.
Safe passage away
from ShadowLand.

Bent,
but unbroken,
while the pain
of its death
runs deep.

Not until
hatred is spent
and words of
kindness are spoken
will forgiveness
be complete.

Only one way to forgive,
that would be completely.
Only one way to live,
that would be completely.

Anything less
misses the mark,
comes from the head
and not from the heart.

And so it remains
that for me to be free,
I cross the threshold
of forgiveness
standing ready
to turn the key.