So How Did He Survive? Poem by Mark Heathcote

My soul has been unravelled like razor barbwire
And against my will, it's been stretched out wide
Mountain high and valley low,
My soul has been crushed in radioactive mud and air.
And my heart has been preserved dead in formaldehyde.

Without a heartbeat so that others can point
And say he never truly loved life
So how did he survive?
He never cried or cared.
Many wished he were dead - under a granite rock.

They'd say an exorcism might wake a demon in his heart
Oh, oh, my soul is like a featherless wing on fire
That beats without lift or blood.
So how did I survive?

'Did he ever love? ' Whispers vent where they hide.
Tarnished in hate and bitter misplaced pride
They hiss like vipers. Have on inexplicable smiles.
Isn't it rich how wolves are always complaining they are victimised?
In their own - eyes.
Oh, so how did I survive?
Oh, so how did I survive?
The gaze from their eyes.
The gaze from their eyes.