Pressing On Poem by Bryan Riley

...Heavy thoughts
a leaden sky;
fires burn bright across
the wasted land
Tears are wasted
on the dead.
Our grief should be
poured out upon
the living

The sorrows we've shared;
the losses we've endured
together enough to stop us
dead in our tracks for fear
and yet, we stoop to
pick up the small, glittering
fragments of all that we've
called 'good' and 'sacred'

In the absence of malice
exist these fervent wishes:
striving for that freedom
from the chains with which
we bind ourselves. Placing
faith in our dreams, not quite
so willing to lose for the
sake of having given an
honest effort

-Where the shadows speak
of a deeper darkness, angels
and demons both striving to
gain possession of what is
left of our souls-
Salvation seem as though it's
light years away... no solace
found in the paling of the sky,
knowing the full light of day
will find you, still, standing
in the shadows