My scarred hands pained my marked life

To grit a fist was to pry the last of my will to spill an ounce of energy

That I had not the muscle left to make

And not the thirst left for life

So instead of death

I slept

Slept one day

Another

And slept away three more days

Slept away the results of my ill-fated ways

Of a lost life

Down a wrong turn

Within an unwanted world

Beneath the filtered sky

Of an unnamed day

I twitched to my fists locked tightly fit

To be born again to the whispering hints

Of a forgotten lost time

From a buried lost past

Wakeful to the reasoning chill of an altered state

My feet bleed to the earth

Of an altered fate

And as my eyes cry to ignite of unscratched light

I know now that I will live a new life

So while spite that I write with the hands

Of an unknown man

I feel like a child in-flight to an untouched future at hand

I feel like I am alive

Once again                                                                           

Copyright © 2000 Ashby & Alfred publications