My rock

God, I can see, what you gave me,

He was a piece of the road that we’re all on,

And he wouldn’t move,

Come storm or tires,

Hold on, he didn’t need to change.


God, I can feel, what he took on,

That rain which followed me, the cold too,

And he wouldn’t move,

Came hurricanes,

Hold on, he didn’t need to change.


Now, you can see, how it went on,

The stones would crumble and pieces are here,

Still he wouldn’t move,

Hope, fearlessness,

Hold on, he didn’t need to change.


Last stretch

The dancing, swirling smoke streak

that rose from the last ember when it died

The long, thin, twirling smoke streak

resides inside me instead of my soul

howling through the black chimney

the flames turned embers lasted a while

leaving behind a cadaver and the streak

The radiating pain, I am relieved,

has perished from my chest, I believe

should I gather logs once more;

The purpose of my journey

disappeared in the noise of life

this echo didn’t reach my digits or core