I stole myself away before there was nothing left to take.
My heart lay in shattered ruins, the once beautiful city so bright.
Brittle, broken shards of life lingered at my feet.
My soul hung from a tree, the rope drown tightly about the life force.
Is that gruesome thing by the city gates the heart which once rested within my breast?
How could I have let this carnage take place here?
Why was there nothing to defend the most delicate of places there?
I was not prepared to live in the dark and tangled world of bleak despair.
The bloody battle raged for years with nothing I could do.
Tools needed to prepare oneself for such a war I did not have.
But now I am here, in the midst of this ruined city, surrendered.
To my maker, the founder of my foundation.
A hope beyond this refuge pile that seemingly continues grow.
With the maker of beauty in progress I know the future is bright.
I know for sure that something full of light is on the way.
After all this blackness consume, to be refreshed is inspiring.
One day I will find myself shiny and new.
All that I will know shall be of he who has made me whole.