Portaled souls

I’ll say a little prayer for you while your soul heals
Mine a weeping mess in comparison, but I’ve got to do this.
I will rise in the moments of your departure with hopes of being your savior.
As the sun sets behind me and you look into my eyes, shimmering glory around me as the shadows form their halos around you
I will bring you back from the brink and embrace you with my strength.
I struggle just like you, but my silence won’t be the death of you.
Placing the headphone over my ears, drowning out the voices that try to get in.
Nothing will stop me from getting to you, not even them.
Their bodies are all I see when I open my eyes
And yet they have somehow wiggled into my dreams with chants of a comeback.
Death has trapped them
They are not alive nor are they dead.
Wandering the earth alone, Kruger’s of the world, so to speak.
I observe them daily, their faces pained and yet they don’t sleep.
They observe us too, and yet we are too blind to notice their rise from the middle
As they step through portals into our world.
That shiver up your back wasn’t a chill from the wind.
That pain within your chest isn’t heart burn.
They are here, the bodies from our past.
All that they want is to have their lives back.

One for the devil

Gazing out of the window,
My mind wandering.
Thoughts begin to process, yet nothing comes easily.
I watch as the children begin to laugh and play, wishing a smile would form upon my face.
I can feel it, feel the sudden unease of the fight within me.
Closing my eyes I dream, dream of the place I wish I could go.
Anywhere far, far away from here.
I’ve watched my life flash before my very eyes.
The fairy tale of a lover once scorned seeking to find the purity of the angel who spread its wings.
Fly,fly little wing.
Fly where only the angels sing.
A song once pure, yet now tainted with the deceit that throws itself at my feet.
“Kneel,” it tells me, a voice spoken no higher than a mere whisper.
The trembles sink in as my body absorbs the poison of artificial numbing.
I feel no pain any longer as the voices subside and a swirl of dizziness appears a moment too late.
The lights turn out.
“At peace,” it whispers.
Anguish no more.