Monica Richards

Armistice

Monica Richards


From the cold horizon
Their armies cry for blood
Surrender Surrender

The desert wind the ocean bed
The wind beckons come the flood
Surrender Surrender

Your drama is as usual
Wrapped in pointless battle
Surrender Surrender

Deed is the truth of Character
But the Word may bring on War
Surrender Surrender

The Healing
Pulling back - pulling in
The pain begins to relent
Pulling back - pulling in
To heal. We may Heal.
Pulling back - pulling in
Oh the desire to heal
We must have desire...

Fixed and refixed tiny tears
Sacrificed the kindly wrist
Surrender Surrender

Add to your cares new tragedy
Wits sharpened to weaponry
Surrender Surrender

Like a disgusted outsider
Welcomed to exclusivity
Surrender Surrender

Deed is the truth of Character
But the Truth may bring the War
Surrender Surrender

Towards the cold horizon
A higher perception
Surrender Surrender

From the boulders of my perch
The thrill of terror confides
Surrender Surrender

Drifting into the abyss
At peace in Motherly silence
Surrender Surrender

To fight is useless
I could but step towards this.
Surrender Surrender