On this black path through a new chapter
there stands a wall.
It rises from the ashes of the past
and spans the width of the dreams it pushes against.
My wall is constructed
of used liquor bottles,
Nights unconscious on the floor;
Not heeding the warnings
And now paying the price….
Leaving broken hearts and dreams,
damaged and splintered lives
Of loved ones piled up like cord wood,
and shattered emotions from my loved ones.
It’s mortar is ignorance and it’s seams
are tight from selfishness.
The wall stands before a promised land,
and must be broken and penetrated
to see the sun again.
And, thick and formidable as it seems
There is light through the mortar—
there is a hole; a tiny one.
A chink in the vastness of it’s bounds.
It is called hope and it’s cracking the wall;
Its steely, strong and ceaseless;
Cracking beyond the pain;
Beyond the IVs and needles,
Beyond the endless blood tests
Past the shame and he tracks on my arms,
And past the ever present pain from the scopes;
Like a fighter, I tape my hands tight with grit,
and anger, and heart, and fire in my very soul against the enemy of my existence—
With a fury beyond measure at this turn
In the bend of my journey
that I have self imposed
and prepare for the fight ahead…
Knowing it will be bloody,
Exhausting, debilitating but glorious as I win it
Because I know that the land of dreams only takes one good punch to end the nightmare
And make that new journey and saga begin.
And that punch breaks brick.
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