Ps.40 Only the evening
I thought the sun had set.
Familiar orange thoughts rested on horizon silhouette.
I thought the day was done,
And night had won,
As darkness leant against the wall of sky
And as together we waited there to die.
The blanket tore to a million drops of rain,
Each one throwing itself at my resolve to stand, again and again.
Each bullet deliberately thickening mud to sink me further still.
The cruel, corrosive erosion of my shattered will.
But the mire was only … neck deep,
I fe