25 November 2015

works without faith, faith without works

in another life, we would be married,
and i would carry you toward your dream,
and your arms would swing wildly
in playful protest, and i would carry you
over the crest of your nightmare,
and with the pain nipping at us from behind,
trying to catch up but failing miserably,
we would be freer the further ahead we ran,
the further ahead we ran.