There is a shadowbox inside of me
One not meant for others to see
Sometimes it is filled with pain or dread
When times are troubled inside my head
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Other times it’s filled with hope, love and glee
The sunnier, shinier side of me
Regardless, it’s there firmly in place
Keeping a watchful frame ’round my grace
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The rebel fights to be set free
To pillage and trash and burn
Destroying the life with simplicity
Disregarding the good we learn
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If given the chance he will prevail
Leaving a trail of tears
Bottled up inside
How long can we hide
From the rebel who feeds in our fears
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The parallax pomposity
Of an overly anxious man.
A cantilevered view
Through a spyglass made of sand.
Self-aware, in stalwart effort,
His reflection did he admire.
Until put to death…
By executioners hand…
As ordered by the Sire.
Too many cooks in the kitchen
Only makes the recipe bad.
So much posturing,
“Mine is the best!”
And the customer walks away sad.
Your words bounced away
Like flat stones tossed across the water
As they skipped
They promulgated
With disregard
Once released from the lips
The sounds echoed
Inside my head
These were not words
Meant for calm elation
These were meant
For turbulent waters
Coalescing out of nothing
But the ashes of tears
From the wayward son
Ostracized over years.
Denounced in his worth
As the gods watched and sighed.
“Tis not the end to our chosen!”
And the Phoenix flared to life.
In my failure I dug deeper into solitude and regret.
During this time of bitterness, I found nowhere and no one to turn to.
With my loss it seemed there could only be one way out.
But,
In failure I can find strength.
In bitter times I can find sweet repose.
In loss I can find life.
Believe…
