You Can Never Go Back
by Trisha Hanudel

wasting away in my crumpled bed
a bed that's seen better nights
a face that's seen better fights
and yet i lie here rotting

the heiroglyphics on the wall say it all
until they're sandblasted away
spray cans rust for one more day
and they still don't know who i am

kings of the world, the three kings of a town
vowing alliance till death
words spoken by a younger breath
at 18 i've given up my crown

nights of broken desperation, nights i had to run
the world is a fist, i never got caught
still in search of the solace i sought
so i changed my tag from Angel to Lost

so here i lie, dazed from apathy
in my crumpled bed
i never started the war
i never did what i said

where will redemption find me,
one of the once crowned kings of the street
the battle-scarred pavement warrior
sometimes i pray we'll never meet

i've fallen from my 4-story throne
my Angel was not there to lift me up
down from my highest, most sacred altar
right into the back of a dump truck

is this how the kings of Isreal fell?
did they suffer this much pain?
my throne sits empty, dark and lonely
except for Angel, Sewer and Lost--once my tag, now my stain

my bedroom light begins to fade
i still try to fight sleep
my heart is weary, once valiant in defense
now sinking in their waters, black and deep

and so the eyes flutter and shut
i truly believe i have been blessed
my crown will be passed down
to another noble warrior, bleach-blonde tressed

i smile in my sleep
aware of the new day
and the peace it will bring
for i have Faith and i will Pray

Copyright © 1999 by Trisha Hanudel
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