Would You Wake Up?
The blustering winds are reverberant with gunshots and loud wails,
And the crackling of the raging fire your own world has been set to.
Colossal castles are now tottering on the verge of their collapse
As here you lie amidst all looking like no more than a corpse.
Why don't any of these perturb the serenity of your ignorant slumber?
Why do you not feel the wet warmth of your own blood
As it gushes down your body from the many wounds
That the demons have inflicted and continue to gnaw into?
Perhaps you think that the anguish is but a bad dream;
That it is impossible and unreal for the evil to have intruded this far
While you sleep forgetting that you have never had any defense.
Perhaps in your friends you trust
Assuming they would dress you wounds if any
Even as you sleep unaware that you have no friends around.
The twitch of your eyebrows suggests
That the twinge of the pain is too sharp not to rake you up;
That your screaming festering wounds are defiling
The inner sanctuary where your very belief in life is ensconced.
You writhe and scowl and you turn around
But would you like always just cover your ears
And slump back into sleep again?
Would you hope that the ominous sounds and sights do not exist
Just because you choose to thus sleep over them?
Or would you for a change, rise?
-Rise and grab the sword from the fiends brandishing it
And wield it for your own survival
Against those who have always known one fact
That they would not have dared inch this close had you been awake.
Would you wake up? Would you fight? Would you live?
Something tells me that this time, at least you want to.
You want to claim back life as the gift it is.
And the crackling of the raging fire your own world has been set to.
Colossal castles are now tottering on the verge of their collapse
As here you lie amidst all looking like no more than a corpse.
Why don't any of these perturb the serenity of your ignorant slumber?
Why do you not feel the wet warmth of your own blood
As it gushes down your body from the many wounds
That the demons have inflicted and continue to gnaw into?
Perhaps you think that the anguish is but a bad dream;
That it is impossible and unreal for the evil to have intruded this far
While you sleep forgetting that you have never had any defense.
Perhaps in your friends you trust
Assuming they would dress you wounds if any
Even as you sleep unaware that you have no friends around.
The twitch of your eyebrows suggests
That the twinge of the pain is too sharp not to rake you up;
That your screaming festering wounds are defiling
The inner sanctuary where your very belief in life is ensconced.
You writhe and scowl and you turn around
But would you like always just cover your ears
And slump back into sleep again?
Would you hope that the ominous sounds and sights do not exist
Just because you choose to thus sleep over them?
Or would you for a change, rise?
-Rise and grab the sword from the fiends brandishing it
And wield it for your own survival
Against those who have always known one fact
That they would not have dared inch this close had you been awake.
Would you wake up? Would you fight? Would you live?
Something tells me that this time, at least you want to.
You want to claim back life as the gift it is.
