The woodpile,dry


The woodpile was dry
matches struck, forrest now aflame
smoke clouds my judgment
fear squeezes my chest tight
What once was dead
is finally alive
burning like the sun,
showing no mercy
I try to drown out the silence
but still it creeps in and whispers to me
a wish to be free

Stolen moments pile and turn to ashes
memories, bitter to the taste
I try to find a way to waste
just a little more time
and hope I wake
to find the world is a better place
not so full of greed and hate
I never knew these little deaths
until you came
chasing unreached dreams away

You never asked me to fight
but how can I wade through a web of lies
without sword in hand
and hope at heart
I thought I was weak once
now I know it was a life without cause
an emptiness of the soul
I can never go back to that place
where I believed I was not needed
where I believed I was nothing more
than a woodpile, dry
we were the fire all along.

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