Saturday, 6 September 2014

Behind the Wall

There is no peace behind closed eyes
Tonight, I dream of walled cities surrounded
By hungry enemies with bright curved knives
Waiting for that moment of weakness, to strike

The choice, my choice, insofar as there is one to make
Do I hold the walls, the strongest face presented
Or pull back to the fortress, that battered crag, to hide?
So much to consider, and yet, in truth, little time to decide

Beyond, the plains fill with faceless dangers, hurtful strangers,
Above, a sky leaden and heavy with empty promise
There won't be rain, despite the forks of lightning pelting
No cover to hide behind

Trapped, then, I... against a rising tide, in this dream world
I have created, with rules to bend
To stay and fight, is surely to die, but to retreat is a fate
I wish not to comprehend

It is not courage I lack, nor the will for resources to engage
It is just that I want to choose the fight
Being shoved into the corner is not my desire, to set rage's fire
Of reaction and lash out blind, that is not what I have in mind

And yet, in the end, needs must.
For as surely as I awaken and the city is swept aside,
My enemies don't weaken, indeed they reinforce
And wait again for the next dream, behind closed eyes.

With me and my wall, built pebble on stone.