The Rescue

no-one can
rescue you from
your own life the
hours of lonely
strife the heart beats
away - this Saturday
I am heavy in
my own hand, a bad
foot and leg a day
unforseen, unplanned has
hit me heavy
and I land face-
down the dirt
clogging all my mouth.
Without place and
heart and life I am
devoid of purpose
and my breath
a useless thing. There is
nothing left to ring
out, no real
song to sing
except dirge and
wanting.  I am
sick at heart and
know no dove of
white with shield and
light who can
lift me free
of me.
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