The words were waiting

The words were waiting

The words were waiting, hovering
below the skirts of mind,
as conscience gathered them in hand,
to step into the fray.
They lingered by the hem of thought,
slow drifted through my lips,
until I saw they'd sallied forth,
to say what should be said.
And in release they held their ground,
full shadowed by my doubt,
as born of dark necessity they
formed in armoured ranks.
Fears and hopes had marshalled them,
without my knowing how,
they would perform upon the field;
if victory would come.
The words were waiting, hovering
below the skirts of mind,
as conscience gathered them in hand,
to step into the fray.