DEAD CRIES

So many are crying out.
Crying out to be saved.
They are empty and desolate.
Possibilities are impossibilities.
The veil of hopelessness hangs heavy.
They are enveloped by despair.
So many lives are in ruin.
One day is no different from the next.
Anger breeds anger.
Violence breeds violence.
Will grace ever prevail?
Will faith suffice?
It's impossible to say.
When all is shrouded in darkness.
The harbinger of doom rides.
Impale one and all.
The corpses pile higher and higher still.
Decay weighs heavy on the air.
The cries of the dying crescendo.
Vultures circle overhead.
I cannot believe this is the sum of everything.
Death is not complete, no, not yet!
Death is the only mortal.
Hope is rising.
Bringing the light of a new day.
I still believe the dying can be saved.
Talking isn't going to do it.
Take that will and make a way.
I was once dead.
Now am alive.
Comfort allowed the culminating of healing.
The dying need to know there is hope.
There is comfort for the afflicted.
There is freedom from self.
There is freedom.

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY-(22/09/2012)