The crosses are for bearing

the weight of our shame.

The questions left unanswered

and unasked are all the same.

The danger’s in the morning

when the Sun lights up your face

and you’re married to the darkness,

so you’re lonely every day.


The pit of all compulsion,

the ravages of war,

the secret of a sinner,

the leverage of some more.

That weight up on your shoulders

always looks for more

and when you sneak a look

behind you,

it’s always the same old score.


I ask and I am given.

I take and I am found,

crying lamentations,

laying on the ground.

Defeated for a moment,

but in my torment I have found

the mercy of a lover;

angels all around.


I will walk

a little while

with my cross

upon my back,

A prince among the morning,

a king when it turns black.

A fade in the persuasion

if you’ve come this way;

turn back.

Don’t sell your halo

for a lifetime

you wish you could take back.


Child of the night time,

facing down the dawn.

Waiting for the sunrise

to lift that cross

and carry on.


HG – 2018

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