Dry Bones

A far cry by: Dry Bones

“Dry Bones”

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?

Day after day, I rivel. 

Who knows for how long?

Reduced to mere survival

screaming it’s selfish undertone.

Aspiration is long forgotten

If I live, to what avail?

Despair darkens my demeanor 

Time and time again, I fail.

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?

Compassion is now contended;

Making less sense than it did before

And those who are offended 

break the hinges off my door. 

Disappointment - my adornment 

as if I’m capable of more..

If only they knew the torment

that is relentless at my core. 

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?

Wisdom - she only mocks me.

She dances around my doom

singing, “Here lies a foolish boy 

who followed freedom to his tomb.”

Now I’m cast to raging seas;

A boat beaten by a angry wave;

unanswered cries like pleas 

from crows that cry above my grave.

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?

Ah, Lord, You know.

But I am left to wonder why 

every attempt to be the hero 

turns to ashes when I die. 

All this foolishness will follow 

as I lay down and return to dust

and time is sure to swallow 

all these fallacies I trust. 

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?