"Once Remembered In Time"

This is love and not treason
dreaming the dreams of myself,
wrapped around truth within my mind
being the martyr more than a murderer.

His sins hidden to beat the frightened child
in a world of endless red tape the truth confined,
there in the clouds floating in the light of the rays
just another demonic being hiding from a spotlight.

Shadowed in the moonbeam mirrored in the sky
where hidden tales of woe lay tightly tangled,
deep inside we’ll find it was no surprise
my hopeless cry of sorrow on high.

Transforming there with strength
determination and courage,
the forgotten language
for the beaten child.

Running away to hide
this tale of ethereal wisdom,
bound in twisted turquoise knots
a reason to search and find myself.

Why is the wise oak in my mind
with the acorn on the ground,
seeing high into the sky
a vision of hope for me?

Free from nightmares
a bastard up the stairs,
broken the lock on the door
my shattered crying out loud.

My memory of Mom in heaven
praying her prayer for me,
Sheriff, with the demon
locked behind bars.