The mind is of a battlefield…

Overwhelmed with great despair.

We give it all that can be give,

And at times is hard to bare.

The explosions of this rage inside

It tears our wounded soul.

Like warriors on a bloody field,

The turmoil has its toll.

We search in ‘vain’ for frantic peace

To which there is no end,

And strive to find that level plane..

Our souls in hope to mend.

For this road that we are now upon;

Is paid with heavy tears,

From those who came before us,

In the darkest of their years.

 

Antony King

 

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