Between The Hours of Dusk and Dawn
Those hours between dusk and dawn
are when the world is rewound
The shelves are stocked, the papers come
and by the morning garbage is gone.
So many stories and dreams abound,
and for some true love is found,
between the hours of dusk and dawn.
But there exists in the world of one
a lifetime that has gone beyond
possible to be rewound
where nightmares instead of dreams rebound.
The hope for peace is only found
in needles used by his own hand
and arm that has a rubber band
to bring the vein up to the fore
and give him peace just once more.
But when the promise of dreams are blown
with falsehoods by a druglord sown
the nightmare wins a mind unsound.
He thinks escape and looks around
He jumps and falls far, far down
and crashes on the waiting ground.
Then instantly his world’s rewound
as angels lift with trumpets sound
and take him to a higher ground
where he is dressed in whitest gown
and olive branches braided round
his head to make forgiveness’ crown.
He walks on gardens path that’s sown
with thornless roses which have grown.
The greenest grass so freshly mown
placed on a chair becomes a throne.
To the wind his wounds are thrown
The nightmares of the past have gone.
And music is the foremost song
where peace at last, for him was found
between the hours of dusk and dawn.
©vrd.9/7/98
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