Glory Days

When metal cleaves bone.
When hope is left alone.
It’s not pain that I fear.
Nor the head of the spear.
It’s the shadows of the mind.
It’s the closed vision-blind.
In those moments I run.
Like a waiting trap, sprung.
Like a bullet shot, stung.
In those moments I run.
When no treasure is secure.
When the malady has no cure.
It’s not danger that I fear.
Nor the whispering ear.
It’s the lack of a lasting future.
It’s the never-healing suture.
In those moments I run.
Like the horizon chasing sight.
Like dusk chasing daylight.
In those moments I run.
When words have no sense.
When belief has no evidence.
It’s not others that I fear.
Nor the smile and the tear.
It’s the pure unfiltered insanity.
It’s the beast called humanity.
In those moments I run.
Like the sane man I am.
Like the lion from the lamb.
In those moments I run.