Mark

Pulse pounding
Inner ear
Depth sounding
Defensive fear

Waking sleep
Off the edge
The Shallow deep
An unkept pledge

A selfish love
Child unheld
What was above
A broken weld

Dreams are not free
Too steep the price
What is to be
Not left to dice

And still I stand
With bough in hand
As it was planned
I understand

Blow you a kiss
Turn to the wind
Those things we miss
And times we've sinned

The night replays
The substantial
None of my ways
Are circumstantial

Into the day
Walk, run or ride
Things I will say
Attempts I will hide

Make up my life
And touch those near
Sharpen the knife
Equip the gear

I play to gain
Not just to end
befriend the pain
Fields that I tend

What comes behind
When I am naught
What peace they find
From what I bought

Makes up the man
And marks his soul
That is the plan
To become whole

All rights reserved to James Martin Cox