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troubles - greyness- rock paths - masks which burn

Oh my heart which is so silent,
Cries like tears on cold iron,
Sharp pains which haunt my soul
Bring emptiness to the surface again.

The future, all thoughts, ambitions, desires,
Enter the open portal, and stack the shelves.
Controlling with leather reins which seem to move
Me, ever in the direction, of what?

Do I understand all that tosses in my mind?
Ships thrown in storms, fair well at times
And yet can be brought to the point
Where, repairs, decisions are needed.

Such seems hard to draw close,
Love is ever there from many sources
Blinds which cover some, cords
On this side or not quite here.

Light forever flickers in my dark
Ever do I pick it up and see
Hold it close to see my thoughts
Or far to see the path I lead.

Darkness sometimes grasps hold,
But my heart chooses the light.


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He was grey, that was all,
Like the rain which drove him.
He sheltered under a hand,
Stone, cold in a church yard.

As he looked all he could see
Was black, white existed
But not in this world
Not in his sorry heart.

Darkness hung over him,
The only shelter that he had,
No one cared, frost bit
As his teeth into a broken crumb.

Colour rarely appeared,
Once he looked into Christ's home
And saw only black with dots
Of light, mainly black though.

He sits alone, thoughts
Beg to be heard. Death
Only calls to check his life
Soon to take him away.

Who has the answer,
Who has the light
Who can bring colour
Into his dark world.

Sticks pound the earth,
Break it into warmth.
He alone sits on it
As each of us walk by.


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Rock Paths
A mountain rock I stand upon,
With many paths which seem to flow
Down from the top past where I stand.
Right, left and underneath my feet
These trickle onwards down.

I look at where I've been and see,
The good and bad which have chiselled away
My life, made me unique. My hurts.
My joys. My falls. My climbs.
All of them shaping who I am.

Where I've been seems so important
Until I once again look up the hill.
What awaits me, is undiscovered,
Buried, hidden among the bushes and brambles
Which lie forward on my path.

Only when I get to the top,
When I see all I've done
Will I understand the weaving the path took.
Know the why, the how and accept them
For what they are.

Once He has finished with me,
Carved me into his perfect creation,
Shaped me into his planned mould.
Then I will sit at His feet and worship Him
Forever on that mountain rock.


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Masks Which Burn
Hidden from eyes which look
Hidden from all who think they know.
Desires from my heart
Sheltered, wrapped within a cloak
Hidden by Masks which burn.

Hidden by actions which contrast
To some of what I feel
To some of what I know
My heart cries in pain sometimes
Caused by Masks which burn.

Jailed by thoughts, appearances
That know of what I should be
Slammed in the face, a door
With no key or handle
Trapped by Masks which burn

Lights sometimes flickers on me
Light sometime reveals my heart
Unlocks my door and lets me see
Cools my face, relief from pain
Caused by masks which burn.

Oh Mask which burns my desires.
Oh Mask which traps my love.
Oh Mask I wish I could smash
You to a thousand pieces,
But I fear you, Mask, I fear you


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[ All poems written by Stephen Ogston and are Copyright Protected ]