THE Skeletons Bane

to Marcy Howard

A clattering sound erupts at night, the bones of the skeletons free.
As in the daylight we pretend, while hoping no one can see,
Though they dance within the mind, it’s that which poisons the heart,
And for those few unfortunate souls, there’s no ending once they start.
They live in words from others mouths, a flow of poisoned talk,
And though they’re alive in daylight too, assumptions make them walk,
They feed on dreams and hopes and goals, at times stronger than our will,
Fueling any doubts we have, or the pain we can not kill.
One thing is a bane to them, both in the daylight and the dark,
A thing which breaks those chains that bind, as the shackles leave their mark,
Any guilt or sorrow held, is a chain which they have forged,
As the past reaches out, others jealousy engorged.
One thing overcomes this hold, and lasts throughout all time,
It’s the thing I found with you, which to a skeleton is a crime,
Loves the thing they can not stand, because with it they lose their hold,
And if it’s anchored in your soul, the will of the skeleton then grows cold.
If we walk a darkened hall, the shadows need not cause fear,
Love provides us with the light, to make our pathway clear,
My belief and faith in you, gives me the hope you’ll understand,
Together the skeletons we can kill, if you’ll take my outstretched hand.
    Love lives!



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