A crimson pool where sorrow flounders,
Conveys a truth, which never counters.
To **** a child is a messy business,
A fit of rage, a sign of weakness.

From all life’s lessons, you haven't learned?
That life is precious and time hard earned.
A wake, a funeral, a mournful day,
There’s one less child to run and play.

That fallow soul that plants a seed,
Of life’s destruction, a wicked creed.
I say to you, who dare not talk,
Time is wasting, it’s eleven o’clock.

It’s called self-fulfilled prophecy.
I control my destiny, but I don't have direction.
I’m called a failure, but by what measure?
The cards are not in my favor.
Who will judge me?
Fate is not a comforting idea,
It has a formality that lacks purpose.
Why do I fear it?

I think my heart, a fallow one
A tool of perdition and an instrument of vanity
It beats slowly as if to stop; nothing can rouse it or disrupt its cadence
Not even love

My soul awakens,
Into darkness that knows no light
A blackness that offers warm comfort
Encased in the fluid of life
Mumbled voices I cannot interpret
I am clutched from my cocoon
I can see light and nebulous shapes
This is new life and soon
I will forget a past life

I am a ship floundering in a raging sea
No sign of land to ground me
Your hateful words are like barnacles,
Attached to the timber that is my soul
Although my mast is made from the strongest wood
You attempt to smash it to pieces with your severe gaze
I have not seen a clear day nor night for weeks  
There is nothing to guide me
Nor Star nor sun nor kind word
I fear that one more gluttonous wave will capsize me
I am lost at sea

A soul exalts a given day
Rescinds it all, the next
Why are yearnings fast forsaken?
Displaced by yet another
I promise that by day’s end
My love  will not depart
Denying the callous cycle, its prize
Replaced by mirthful spirits and thoughts

It was unexpected
How could it end so soon?
Without warning
A life’s crescendo
Like a song ending at the second to the last note
Never to hear the final note
No closure