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
