Horizon
Unwilling I dream of the tear stained ground,
The broken flagstones which shift beneath my feet.
The cries of turncoat and innocent thief alike
Echo in the blazing shadow of this place.
It leaves me to wonder who indeed played the traitor
In their blind trust or unrealized deceit.
A black sun sets on the horizon of my memory
And screams for vengeance before its final curtain falls.
It is here, in this consuming light
That the truth is laid bare.
And yet it is only the confusion of a young mind,
Desperation of an even younger heart, that is revealed.
Ink falls like rain, asking where it was we strayed.
Where did we lose that utter trust and blinding responsibility?
The questions themselves demand the bitter answer
Though we are all locked in this world of frustration.
I look to the sky, turning away from the omen;
The very writing on the wall that I chiseled letter by letter
Only to find that these tainted words
Were never my own.