Blinded by the Truth

I lay amongst the hills of shattered dreams. As the valley cries I hear it scream between the dark unordered pillars of the mountain's stark, majestic beams. From here it seems, the sky reflects the silhouettes of cold regrets and wets them in the streams of light, which once had captured stars in flight, now flowing fast and flashing past my weary, troubled head. A body broke by feelings dead. Your ghost beside me in this bed of life that I have made. Strong as ice but still afraid, that heat of tongues will part me with an oral blade, and melt away your comfort's shade. I prayed in times of better mind, to fool my heart that I was blind, to never hear or ever find, the hatred held but not opined, the truth that long since strayed.

I watched as wheels of wisdom spun, their revolutions missed my turn, they spoke like raging fires of sun, but in the end they came undone. They burned as I had hoped and thought, to free me from the rope and knot that clung around my throat and sought, to see me hung when I was caught. I fought for years through rain of tears, through winds of hurt, through pain and fears, to only hear the promised voice, present me with a change of choice: "face your fears, or else rejoice".

Solemnly I carried on, through the tunes of night and beats of dawn, I mingled with the birds of song, who whistled hymns of sorrow. I waited years for one tomorrow, a cavalcade of love to follow, but finding truth too hard to swallow, I made my home in the hollow of a windward brae. Now as you pass I raise a glass in awe of this clear day. I sip the lies I heard you say, drink them down with ease and lay, back amongst the hills to stay.