My Home Waiting

My Home Waiting

I have come to dark places
and I have spilled blood borne of rage!

I have mourned my regrets
and I have caressed fools
Profane fools
recognized as fury, jealousy, hatred.
I have bedded them all
And I have loved them all.

I have cursed the shadows
And I have hunted what haunted me.

I have grinned in the face of the chaos
And I honored the misery.
I have spawned the turmoil
And bathed in its consequence.
I have exulted in the madness
And felt comfort in insanity’s embrace.

I have snarled at the capacity of love
And I have rejected the attachments of sentiment.

And I have injured my birthright
And I have shunned what is my destiny.

Still, I feel a good thing
Reaching at me
Awaiting my grasp.
Longing to be claimed.
Pleading it’s gift and privilege.
Calling for me.

My home calls, awaiting
Wouldn’t I seize my claim?

Ray Pope

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