Faith Poem

Even in the our darkest moments, knowing nothing can be salvaged, it is never our nature to give in.

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The Myth Of Surrender

© Christopher Ames

Published on April 2009

Across a scarlet sunset I will be watching
Flowers turn in vain to face the falling sun
But drinking in the moonlight of defeat
In the darkness their failures will dawn
And the worst emerge from hiding
We have all become chasers
Of things we know must end
It never stops us
We can't help but
Defy fate

On a lone old wooden bench I will be waiting
The last stronghold of nature in the city
Now towers grow like trees in the summer
Standing as shepherds of our downfall
The stars burn themselves out slower
When nothing can be salvaged
Hope is all we have left
It's never enough
But we still try
Even now

Each tired Sunday morning I will be wasting
Some little amount of the time we have left
Praying to some god to make it all right
When church is as silent as mourning
We have been abandoned in turn
Lost as a chick returning
The nest isn't empty
It was never there
We build alone
All the same

From the heart of disaster I will be wanting
For somehow everything to come to an end
And spare us the agony of waiting
The race itself is against madness
You don't win prizes for trying
Only perception changes
The game's rigged then it's done
Even knowing this
Nothing differs
We still fight

In a place all to myself I will be wishing
That I saw the reason for futility
Others think to hold back death with laughter
If clowns were angels we would be saved
But I deny the sun it's light
For what I see in the day
But who would dim the stars?
And even in this
I too strive

On the curb outside your house I will be weeping
Through a broken heart all things seem a drama
And if the world won't end it feels that way
Doomed from the start, but I still want you
Out of sight is not out of mind
For the night kisses the day
And still the faithful pray
They were all right, though
I won't give up
Not this time


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