Every day of my life,
so far,
I have risen.
The day
calls my name,
drags me from my slumber.
No hope,
no regret,
just an empty sorrow;
and rage,
enough to stoke the fires
once again.
I climb up,
into the cool, morning air.
Before the world wakes,
I am stalking,
running,
like the wolf pack lopes along.
The day is prey,
and the night is home.
My hands hurt
from holding on.
Broken from the fight,
but there is some strength
left in them yet,
and my new wounds heal.
Everything
that comes with the dawn
has a cost.
What comes in darkness,
only costs your soul.
There are no magic words
to heal the heart,
only the passage of the Sun,
and fresh turned earth.
Orion,
greets me in the morning.
This side of the dirt
certainly, has its perks.
Clean air,
and in a moment,
I am gone,
before the sun can come
and stake me to the ground.
Time is a shackle,
and freedom is found
in between the atoms
that bond the steel,
and in between the moments
that make our lives.
See me once,
and I am gone,
as if I were never there.
HG – 2019