I remember long ago
When night was night and the ground was still,
Praying to whatever was above to accept me.
That whatever I could be would be for them,
Because we all need something to be.
And as I lay there empty, it was nice to belong to something.
A something people die to protect, and hold above all else,
And I remember asking it to embrace me, and protect me,
From something I knew I couldn’t defeat on my own.
I asked the voice to collect my pieces and create something
Beautiful, and worthy.
So that I could feel pride again,
In being something worth having.
When night was night it seemed so easy,
When the ground was still.