04 September 2008

You call me your child

You call me your child,
even as I grow older as
a man on this earth.

In your eyes I am still
your child. I get dirty
and my eyes sometimes
are filled with ugly sites.

I try and run from them
like bombs dropping in a war
as humanity runs for cover.

Your breath is all around me.
Even when when I'm the most
blind. My heart is often numbed
with the ever so subtle touch of

And still you follow and pursue me.
With every step pressed forward, still saying...

"Come home my child, I am the shelter you seek in the cold. I am the
hand dropping dropping bullets as you pass by! Oh and even when you
cry, I shall no ever tear of my child!

You shall not end in death, but in triumph and legacy!
and the world will know, just who it is that makes life from dust. And
who it is that divides the seas!"

Oh my child, how long must we apart?
Do you not see that this life you live is more precious than gold?

Take in these breathes, open your eyes to this life. You shall not end
in death, but internal life.

Dearest child, come now, rest in my arms.
Let me hide your eyes for awhile. When you wake, you'll be new.

Brandon, the writer

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