Trudging In The Muck

close the eyes to the noise
keep on walking, past the doors
that muffle broken cries
stare not into the sky
nor the dirt where the worms crawl
for the expanse over head sings of bleakness
and the dirt murmurs death

Ignore the broken shards of being
the pain subsides in time
In time there will be brighter days
The sky will once again rain down hope
and the dirt will again be a welcome comfort

now the hard part is calling down heaven
and making the choice to stand
against a screaming world.
the hard part is re-creation
in the heart of self destruction
to pull oneself
from everything that tugs at the heart
and to say “no more”

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