The Open

From the open space, the wake begins
Tearing screams and gun fights belied.
Wishes pull a hunger strike,
Dreams take a holiday from life.
For the things you've wanted,
For the ones you have loved,
Lad smile.
From the open holes, the snakes slither
Piercing defenses, tears run a riot.
In a second that lapsed, flashes hire
Ruthless priests, gospels bore the friar.
Not the one that was stranded,
Not the one who had won,
Had smiled.
In that openness, in a second,
Waiting to be found in a pile,
Only if you want it to be,
You'll stop and smile.