The surface calm, unseen by eye

How many times must this man die

Retreat inside to feel the hurt

To be interred and then unearthed

From quiet cold, safely entombed

To die again, a mortal wound

How many times the bigger man

For others needs, his life has ran

A course not his, that he would ask

Should always this become his task

Bite lip, hold tongue, avoid the scene

A silent pain, a lonely theme

Why re-invest, the grass has grown

Above the tomb, safely alone

Why face the sun and smell the flowers

Intoxicating with their power

Believe, believe, believe in me

You will live eventually

Awake again from hidden death

Fill heart and head, with scented breath

Choose then to hope, to share once more

And be more valued than before

Till cold the heart, no will to try

How many times must this man die

©Copyrighted by Colin Ryan (2009)


4 responses

  1. Bear Hugz

    Did you write this? Love it.

    January 17, 2009 at 7:08 pm

  2. Cotes 2

    Sounds like a guilty conscience there

    January 17, 2009 at 10:36 pm

  3. Colin Ryan

    I wrote it last night yes
    and no B no concience

    January 18, 2009 at 6:18 am

  4. ≈♥ღ§ummє®ღ♥ܓ

    sad, yet beautiful…

    thank you for sharing, sweets. *hugs*

    June 6, 2009 at 2:58 am

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