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Shrapnel
© October 9, 2008, Roy Stucky

I know the depth of darkness that consumes your self control.
I too am cut by fragments of the shrapnel of the soul.
The face that haunts the mirror carries scars none else can see.
How do such chains remain to bind a man whom God set free?

An enemy has crept in planting tares among the wheat.
Deception won't be vanquished 'til the harvest time's complete.
The task before the steward is to nurture righteous seeds
That starve the throat of sorrow of the anguish that it needs.

Across the gulf of decades you can see the journey's trend.
The purpose is the walk as much as any chosen end.
The plan that you should follow will accept the future's bend.
And let me say I hope those turns will help me be your friend.