i’ve stood neath the cross
awaiting my turn.
i’ve heard the stories of children,
and the stories of old men.
there’s not enough difference
for me to discern.
i’ve been to the battle,
and i’ve taken it to the streets.
i’ve been to the place,
where truth and dignity meet.
i’ve stood naked and alone,
and faced my sins.
i’ve felt the wrath of god,
known the ignorance of men.
i’ve worn boots of flesh,
and fought with my hands.
went back into the fire,
to save the last man.
slept with angels and demons alike,
drank the darkness, walked in the light.
found the right in wrong,
and the wrong in right….
as the storm clouds rage
on this face cut by age,
the mountains tremble,
and the rivers rage.
i’ll stay to the end,
i’ll turn the last page,
then catch a ride to the funeral
on the last stage….
i’ll write the words of my heart,
with a pen dripping blood.
i’ll cross the last river,
and stomp through the mud.
with the prayers of the children,
and the eyes of the hawk.
to the place of closeness,
where spirits can talk.
and stare deep and unashamed
into God’s eyes.
and lay down my journey,
where the soul never dies.
where names be forgotten,
but hands clasp as one.
in the valley of darkness,
at the feet of the sun.

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