Bled
The wounds only scratch the surface
Of what few accept in kind regards
But often take for granted
Hoping
That all of this pulls through
To stave away from temptation
Of all that has been seen
Another year to deceive will lead

What of hope’s acceptance
It’s frail and so weak
To cope with this resistance
Too timid and too meek
If all of what it carries dies
Sheltering the fleet
Is lost to what we can’t have
And failed to obtain

Arms crossed
Protect what little can muster
The threat of losing all versus
The salvation of saving little
Memories
Of what could have been true
Burn away without moderation
The priceless reveries we bring
Replaced by the mourns we sing

© 2014