All Cried Out: 
A poem by D. Wyn Price, 2019

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash.

Blood from my parted lips,
You watch, in hope it’s mine
Uncertain of the battle,
The rage that made me blind

I assure you although bruised,
I’ve yet to myself bleed
I have too many along the road to vengeance
Driven by an unquenched need.

Mercy is not in my virtues,
My patience also thin
Not willing to put down my sword
Or to start again.

You forgot what’s most important,
I am not alone
I fight for my family, 
My love, and yes my home.

You read the final poem,
But did not understand,
I was not finished or defeated,
But rose, a better man.

My time of mourning over,
My self pity, cast aside. 
The time for war is upon us
No where for you to hide.

I fight not for carnage,
My quiet rage subside
I’ve been planning for too long
For justice to be denied.

I’ve seen through all your stories
Dismissed all the lies, 
And in the ashes of the fallen
Something will arise.

More than a phoenix
Or the dragon that quietly slept,
You’ve awaken a titan
And cannot help yourself.

My tears are all cried out,
My pillow now in flames
As the horns of war resound
They call out your name.

My final cry is finished,
My demons, ghost set free
Aske yourself what side your on
Are you my enemy?