Stolen Ground

I have tasted heights so high,

I have swam depths so deep,

touching things along the way

which were never mine to keep,

traveling beyond all there

was to know,

yet still there was more,

so much more to go;

confusion and sorrow color

these early morning skies,

answers lie hidden

among alternatives and

cascading lies,

places once called home,

crumble into the far-off fading light,

faces once called friends,

disappear into the approaching black

of this forever growing night;

take my hand,

lead me from this land,

hear my voice,

help me make a stand;

darkness grows above,

storms rise from below,

over-fed pretenders

prepare for the final show,

in this never ending battle

which can never be won,

raging just beyond

all that can be overcome;

into the nighttime void a

whisper does sound,

shadows of tomorrow looming large

across this stolen ground,

mistakes of yesterday forever lost,

innocent blood shed,

freedom at such a staggering cost;

take my hand,

lead me from this land,

hear my voice,

help me make a stand.

.

.