From some place within me
buried beneath sadness and pain,
is a coffin that calls me friend.
Its from the past; called by many names.
Fear and uncertainty are common residents.
There is anger that resides there as well.
Such things grasp at me from within.
The coffin is a desolate place where I fell.
I don’t know what to say,
how it somehow got burried there
but smiles from simple gestures
serve as a line to ascend for repair.
The haze before was blinding
stuck in a perpetual comatose state.
The breath of someone dear
turned the fearful haze back to its place.
Oh how beautiful souls work
yet why is an answer I don’t know.
But warmth dissipates the haze
raging war is under control.
This is what beauty does
it changes perspective to reveal
that no road was ever intended
to be walked alone absent of zeal.