by Profe Steve NaPoWriMo day 9
Wind whips ‘cross the barren waste, Drives grit and ash into his eyes. He wraps his cloak more tightly in his haste And turns his face to scream to the skies.
I cannot bear, can’t bear the pain, He cries to the unfeeling dark. Will there ever be an end to the rain? And strode into the valley stark.
Months had passed now, months of grief, Months in which his heart sought peace, Longed for his soul to find relief, And from his very life release.
There was no end, he found no balm To sooth the clamorous agony deep. And yet tonight his heart was calm, And with a sigh he knew he would sleep.
SHE was calling out to him now, After an endless time of silence, Her summons did with strength endow, And helped him find his balance.
Others need your strength, my love, They must now see you standing strong. Gird your loins, and look above, To ever fight against the wrong.
I had to leave this mortal coil Abandoned you to go walk alone. But find calm though your spirit roil, And go reclaim your stately throne.
He growled and rose up from his knees And turned his steady gaze toward home. My damaged heart, he said, now sees, And nevermore my steps will roam.