Dawn & Dusk

They bury themselves
Like toxic abscesses
Out of sight
Hidden in deep recesses

We don’t realise
That in darkness they grow
Set down foundations
Build an iron throne

We try to forget
Pretend they do not exist
But when squeezed by pressure
The pus escapes with a hiss

The festering infection drains us
Weakens our resilience
We need the help of the Healer
To be rid of this pestilence

We have to open up
And let God move in deep
It will hurt at first
As the Lord begins to treat

But there will come a day
When the pressure releases
And that sickly feeling
Finally eases

That constant ache
Will be no more
And that dark throne of the mind
Will crumble and fall

Now instead will flourish
In the depths inside
God’s gifts and talents
And a whole new life