"A Little Time For Pain - Pathetic Intrusion - 3 Days Grace and I'll Be Fine"

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"A Little Time For Pain - Pathetic Intrusion - 3 Days Grace and I'll Be Fine"

Pain
three days grace
a little time
and I will be back to myself
again.

A little time for pain
pathetic intrusion
soon to be dismissed
perhaps not forgotten
completely
but the goddess in me will go on.

Three days of grace
pain will be on its way
out the back door
and out of my life.

Mourning and delving into the moment
sadness
inner reflection
women in pain
men in pain
we all feel that invisible solitude of heartache
in the darkness
late at night
some
times.

Such pitiful
immortal lyrics
toasting costumes
masks
traded in for new dresses
and a gilded cage.
Yet fighting those troubles
beautiful is the heart in time
once acceptance is sung
and ultimately
conquered
for the masterpiece
of a steadfast sign.

Sadness
exotic in so many ways
many a song has been sung under its
watchful days.
Dances with the devil
dances with drawings of angels
carved into the heart.

I am aware of secret tactics
whimsical angels of fantasy
perhaps disguised
dismissing coincidences
tis a dichotomy
bleeding.
Evil blessing a fairies song
goodness stoned
dismissed
denied
despite her wilting sighs?

Trees change within every season
telling me...
Do not cry.

Blessed be the changes of the moon
and how the earth keeps singing.
Rock me in the daylight
let me be inside the lions roar
lest I reach the end
within my sacred plight
unexplored.

Rescue me
tell me time is short
that's what history tells a wounded soldier.
Tell me then
before I shut that gate
lest I forget a devils pen might steal
mercy for my own self
and this majestic date.

I will plan the perfect end
battle the forces
combat the enemy
platitudes mend.
Strategies set
planned now with a  warrior woman's
precision
I will scheme to save myself.
Three days
and I will be fine.
Pain
three days grace.

I will make a shoebox diarama
in the rain
one hundred umbrellas sheltering my cause
and in my stead for a weeping song
I will place at the feet
of every flower
a precious gemstone.
Blossoms to stand guard
for my swaying
confused at times
lowly heart.

15 April 2009
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen