When you reach out
from darkness and know
Whose fingers lace in yours
No questions asked about
where you lead them
When you pour out
the black ink in your soul
And watch it spread on
Pristine white
Not caring how
it blots out the light
When you think not
To pull your punches
Or blunt the glinting edge
of your words that draw
Angel blood with a whisper
When you see
the Ugly in you
In the mirror only One can
hold up without
turning to stone
in the glare of
your medusa head
When you fly home
With wounded wings
dripping lifeblood
and try to heal
Selfishly feeding on
Another soul, not knowing
or caring how much
is to spare
And in the end
when you calm down
Having stifled sobs
into her pink pyjama top with
The hugging grey teddies
You do feel better
and it hurts a little less
But never can you forget
The echoing sorrow of the
Wide eyed little boy
Inconsolable
In the hollow corridor as
Your lifeless words
tumble out
Already turning to dust
Meaningless
Much like your efforts
To save his father
