Again last night the shadow men called
As I finally dropped into the softness of sleep
Bringing with them the memories of tortured souls
Of those not quite dead who can only weep.

Those who went suddenly and left those who cried
Who then later joined them when they too had died.

I felt like I was falling for a thousand miles
Into a great hole so flooded with their tears
The palpable sorrow that penetrated my soul
That seemed to wash over me for so many years.

I was lost, I am lost, I know not what to do
Amongst all these souls I am searching for you.

Why do these cruel images keep entering my sleep
They go as I wake, but they ever come back
The souls seer their faces right into my heart
And their sorrow brings to me the dog that is black.

I search…

I hadn’t had a plan for this, I hadn’t planned at all
So when the phone rang on that day I was taken aback by the call
A call like that is incredibly rare, indeed it’s hardly fair
And so with you dear reader its nature I will share.

There was a man at the end of the line, his name I didn’t get
And it seemed from what he told me, I’d won millions of pounds, and yet…
He would of course need my details, my name and my address
By now it was getting quite involved, but vital he did stress.

Next of course it was my bank, the details he would want
So he could send the mighty cheque into a new account
I said to him, forget it mate, my info you’ll not get
and so it seems I will not be a millionaire just yet.

Angelic voices called to her
She faltered at beauty’s sound
She’d thought that she was doing well
Surprised that now she had been found.

The monsoon rains had brought her down
A fever struck so deep
Her strength gave out eventually
Her will began to seep.

She’d worked out in the harshest place
She’d dug and picked and sown
On land that others made profit from
The land was not her own.

She’d even had a child once there
And then just carried on
The baby wrapped up on her back
Her plaintiff cry so wan.

But now the time had come for her
Worn out at forty two
Amidst the constant poverty
Her death was nothing new.

They buried her and carried on
No tears upon their face
The crops still needed planting
Her daughter filled her place.

©JRW2014

I hear a sound, perhaps it’s the wind
I’ve even imagined that maybe it’s Him
It’s only a whisper as quiet, so quiet
Calling a name, a name, I’m not sure
I think if He called He’d want someone pure.

But does He exist? I lost all my faith
In my denial I’ve always felt safe
I could claim His existence was purely a myth
Though now as years start to dwindle away
I find I’m not sure, I’m minded to say.

Life is so precious, I hold it so dear
I want to gather all those I care for near
But I’m hearing that whisper again, but so quiet
Is it calling or am I willing it on?
Show yourself voice — or dammit be gone!

It’s quiet now, did I offend
My distorted emotion tried to pretend
I want Him to be real, most surely I do
But…