To Marcy Howard
A solitary figure; stands watch over the night,
Escaping from the daytime;now uncomfortable in the light,
He stands silently waiting; for the other half of his soul,
The part that’s now missing;a part a woman stole.
He silently stands watch; waiting for his revelation,
Living with the hope;she carries his elation,
In body he’s complete; but inside a piece is missing,
For his momentary paradise;exists when its her he’s kissing.
Daily he goes through the motions;yet now he guards his heart,
And though the hearts still beating; his soul is ripped apart,
His face does not show the pain;as he guards against the past,
Lost inside her memory; and these storms that seem to last.
The ingredients all are present;but the blankness in his eyes,
He’s chained to a beautiful face;happiness is his disguise,
Hope is what carries him;through the endless day,
While his nightly prison;for now is here to stay.
One woman stands alone;she’s his beacon through the night,
Hoping she will grasp his hand;restore his failing sight,
He stands at his lonely post;wrapped inside his hell,
As the soulless sentinel;adapts to hell so well!!