The Little Boy

The eyes that slept,

That night,

Were the same,

That hadn't wept,

For a long time. 

Behind those eyes,

Lived dreams, 

Without hope. 

Sordid and dark,

Fermented and stark-

As the black liquid pools 

Of silent despair,

Flooded the lungs-

As the breath came out,

Fast and loud. 

He held onto,

The woman,

Who lay asleep,

By him -

His only touch of life,

And reality,

Of the moment.

His eyes fluttered,

As his dreams crashed,

All about him.

As the man crumbled away-

The little boy in him,

Shouted out-

Crying for help,

Seeking some solace. 

The girl, awake now,

Watched him,

Mesmerized- 

Frozen in shock-

Yet at that moment,

She felt the full force,

Of her boundless love for him-

To protect and nurture,

The little boy in him,

That had grown up without wonder -

And now lay thrashing about,

Lost in his night-mare. 

She reached out and held him,

Close - 

His breath fanned all about her,

As he whimpered,

For his freedom,

From the death jaws. 

She held him,

Cradling his head onto 

Her bosom- 

Till he calmed down,

And ceased to cry.

Placid he lay,

His face, 

A poetry in repose. 

She watched him, 

As he slept-

Praying for his peace,

As she vowed to 

Pick up all his broken pieces,

And let him live to dream again-

With hope - lost in wonder.