Living On A Promise

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I’m living on a promise of another day,
of a life lived in a better way, but
it’s hard to forget yesterday or
this mornings pain.
.
I’m living on a promise of lost love restored
to escape, negate the hell of the reality I abhor
that’s neither dormant, spoken, token or recalled;
after this mornings pain.
.
I want to save the world, see the end of the game,
be the catalyst of change on a magnanimous scale
But my vision is blurred by the weight of this chain
and the stabbing remnants of this mornings pain…
.
Living on a promise made under undue duress,
inconceivable regret, all-encompassing distress..
when pressed, who can suggest what meant more, what meant less
what was said, what repressed, what inferred, or if I’d be blessed
if only I’d repent from this irretrievable time spent
in the depths of despair, hair messed, clothes rent,
ashes black and rubbed across my chest; grieving for this morning
the silver moon adorning night;
only marking the passing of another day of the plight,
.
an orange horizon of sorrow the close of today –
where you are just so foreign and so fucking far away..
.
I’ll save the best of me for the rest of time,
when the promise-kept is the promise mine,
the promise-made long dead and gone, and there are no sad songs,
no lamenting, no longing,
undue duress or undue distress
.
when far away is no strife, a mere ten minute drive
and I walk the path I choose with you by my side,
there’ll be no more words, no pain and no need
to grieve or concede fate an undeserved tragedy..
.
So I’ll embrace honesty and illustrate your memory,
only to know I’ve denied the enemy
a chance to rot in my soul for eternity…
.
For aired, my greivances are more accurately compared
to what could be and for what I should be grateful;
I’m more so than that to know in my heart you still breathe..
my heart is again full and with that small comfort,
.
I take my leave.
.
.
.
[end/arken2003]