Carved Delicate

I used to dream of the life

I lost while I stood

Up high in the night

A lamb in the woods

My light shining strong

My fear kept within

The clang of my heart

Beat places I’d been

–

I used to dream of the life

I lost while I stared

From the highest peak

Surrounded and scared

Watching below

As entities came

Prowling at dusk

And howling my name

–

I used to dream of the life

I lost while I cried

Alone in the open

With no place to hide

Demons haunting

Where I did slumber

Fire lit eyes

Pulling me under

–

I used to dream of the life

I lost while I screamed

A victim of fate

Or so it did seem

That all my plans withered

Dried up in the drought

And left me parched-starving

And fed with death’s doubt

–

I used to dream of the life

I lost while I ran

Afraid of the days

Afraid of each man

A woman of black

Whose shadow had risen

All broken and wounded

And locked in her prison

–

I used to dream of the life

I lost while I broke

Wasting the days

Before I awoke

Dreading the times

And what was to be

Questioning my purpose

And past misery

–

I used to dream of the life I lost

But I don’t dream loss anymore

For deep from within

Mercy opened her door

So wide and so grand

Did joy’s entrance appear

A threshold to serenity

Carved delicate through tears

–

by Samantha Craft

June 2012