Gedichten

The last stand

With the coming of the cold I must take a stand,
These battle shaped hands are ready.
The autumn leafs fall around me,
Like memories of days gone by.
Icy raindrops penetrate my soul,
But I can withstand them, just for a while longer.

The doors open too soon,
The locks rusted and weathered.
For time waits for no man,
An no man waits to run out of time.
And here I take my stand,
To be broken one last time.

Chains try to hold me down,
The scars are there to prove my strength.
The whips left deep cuts on my back,
My blood was payment for those I betrayed.
An idea left to grow, into heroism that I destroy.
My hands they bleed, for they have no tongue.

And if they could speak, it would be nothing but noise.
The cold is coming, there is an eastern wind in my heart.
No need for shelter, I don’t want to hide.
Refuge is for the weak, the strong they survive.
Could I believe this all to be true,
Give my life for returning to you.

My mind at easy, my soul on fire.
For the nightmares to release the chains of desire,
Running uphill is what made me to be,
This coming cold has no salvation for me.
It’s the truth of my soul I uphold,
So keep in mind these kind loving words.

You don’t own me, those who tried know just how it hurts.

Engelse gedicht door: crushed

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