Rust

I take some battles

then I move away.

We love the dust of time

that gathers in the clouds

right before it rains.

I can’t cry

and so I don’t fly

From here.

I wonder where my gift

of strength died,

What did it die for?

and

where did the shelter of hope fade to.

Cause,

 I cant even find a grain

 that dissolves in the rain

before

I lose grip and I

 Can’t restrain.

 I can’t cry

and so I don’t fly

From here.

I wander around in this shadow

all alone

I write my lost battles on

a forsaken stone;

right before I drift away

in the wind

along with that grain

of sand.

That slips through our hands

in the hole of darkened lands.

This tear turns to dust

Here I stay and slowly

it begins to rust.

I can’t cry

and so I don’t fly

From here.

LancE M. Stephens…On