Wounded Warriors

 

I found myself hiding from life

As an army of false narratives paved the way

I fervently clung to illusions and lies

Now, I quiet my steps, to hear the song of the birds.

slowing my pace, haunted by unforgotten words

Actions driven deep, sharp pains, 

A venemous residue as society clutches ever so tightly

to the trauma of our past

We have all walked upon glass, as our Ancestors burials

were meant to erase injury without pardon

a complex world

and as we evaluate what now lies before us

Unforgiving

but in the deepest recess of our collective memory

we shall come to see that the very nature of humans

can also be, kind and nurturing

and so it must be, for this is 

humanities gargantuan Last Stand.

"please try again"

they've hung up, long before the conversation has ended

conclusions drawn like curtains, hearing only what they believe was said

one sided worlds 

waiting for their turn, to sprawl their garbaje over your lawn

yet this hardcore disconnection, was no fault of their own

long stretches of time

isolation hibernating within their soul 

they had lost all notion of the eloquent endeavor 

of appealing to exterior needs

shades drawn, lights dimmed

their very souls clung fast 

to their safely constructed vision of reality

In spite of all yearning for human closeness, 

twas that very nature,

that harboured a 20 foot high meticulous iron wall 

mystery their shroud

embraced by the warmth, 

of their well known comfort zone.