Dagger of Faith
Moonlight dances across the ashen face.
Closed features suddenly amplified by the
wordless screams issued in his mind as he slumbers.
Breath catching as his body arches and he endures hardships
that normal humans never went through.
Tears of rage fall silkily down the cheeks
of a lost and broken boy of sixteen years
who never knew the bliss of quiet
when he lay himself down to sleep.
The voices continue reverberating off the walls of his already pierced mind.
The laughter in his head subject to his weary gaze; His scars visible.
His emotions transparent and no longer hidden.
This boy
wears a porcelain mask ready to crack; an emotionless identity
.
Brooding
and fathomless, he retreats farther.
into memories he didn't know he possessed.
Unperceived sedative for the spirit.
Futile silence, shaken and tired.
The pale form of a boy who has forgotten how to love.
He is fractured, silently crying out
for someone to hear his silent screams.
As he silently dreams and dreams,
the moon stares down at him from its airy place.
Crimson red sheets crumpled around the skinny frame.
A tired boy fallen victim to dreams, truth.
The empathetic moon cries a tear for this broken boy
who thrashes about as the scenes change and
his chest heaves, smooth and flawless.
He endures the quiet pain
of forgotten pride.
And the shooting star streaks the sky.
The tears of the silent moon steadily fall…