Pull
By Morning Star

Colours burn into my mind,
Twisting, turning—open wide.
Rain beats deep within the heart,
Like tears of years torn far apart.

Hoping someone soon will come,
Hold the sword, and bring the sun—
To chase the shadows from the air,
And pull me from their angry glare.

Soft, the hare runs rushing by,
Fleeing fast toward open sky.
The deer lies still, too scared to move,
As the hunter nears—its fate to prove.

But the little one, she dares to dream—
To silence pain, to stop the scream.
She reaches out, and in his light,
She steps into a world turned bright.

Yet anchors tight still pull her back,
She fights, she braves the open track.
Still, behind, the voice remains—
A whisper cold, a chain of pain.

The evil, broken, heavy chill
Still calls, and always, always will,
As long as storms come crashing through—
And no one comes...
No one breaks through.