Every word a photograph

X-ray

There is always something to think,
It’s a mash of things not in any order,
Layers have shifted again and again,
This book we are writing together alone,
Roadways we travers highways or tributaries,
Delays time shifts discordance echos on the line,
Over and over again hitting in waves,
Caught in the rip toes just holding on,
Lifted again fighting a few more strokes,
Holding of breath screaming burning lungs,
As air returns cooling down the fear,
Once again gripping the earth between toes,
Trying to dig in taking root in hearts,
Noble fierce true mighty in glory for grace,
Are we not correct or is our ship upright,
The compass is spinning close to the edge,
Beating against the tide thundering breakers,
We are pounded on and on we force forward,
Never backing away or down shields locked,
Never break formation the pen the sword,
Prescribed as written as conquest demands,
As words fold in upon themselves we listen,
Breathlessly blood pulses in our temples,
Life in my every breath that strongest urge,
Written down in our sacrifices our offerings,
Giving more and just a little more everyday,
Days they tick away like nothing new,
Tacking again across datelines equator,
Waiting through this gloomy waiting room.

All comments and thoughts gratefully received by the Count.

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