Monday, September 22, 2014

For a Torturous Memory

 
I labor from below
Tunneling
Overwhelmed by night

Where the lights cannot pry
And the silent linger
In the firm clutches of sleep

Dig out!
Is the refrain I hold
The harbored scream
Which fuels my effort

Dig out!
Claims my blistered hands
As they toil in spite
Bloodied and maimed

Home
Is a cherished beacon
Wafting through the ruins
Of a once prosperous mind

A ceaseless memory
That soothes and torments
Never leaving me to waver
Never falling
Out of favor with my thoughts

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