there is a toxicity in the air,
a shallow kind of pall,
a quiet mushrooming hush,
as the clouds wait in witness;
I’ve started losing track of the
days,
words no longer have meaning,
people and places become a blur,
my life fades like the night;
through it all You remain;
the myths are stripped away,
the moments silently await,
little boys stare at fastballs,
floating lazily down the middle
of the plate, the promise looms on the
distant horizon, 70 yards of open field,
lies just ahead,
You were there in the beginning,
You are there in the end;
through it all You remain;
the edge does not hold the fear
it once did, the darkness but a whisper,
the distance lessens, as You become
one step closer;
just one beat;
just one breath;
freedom;
.
.
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