the paints all peeled and the rust has set in
a voice says "you've brought this on yourself"
but it's already a fading memory
"just one more chance," he thinks
"with what i know now."
if wishes were horses, more beggars would ride them
the water is thick, and cold
but he presses on
she said she'd prayed for peace
but he knew she'd prayed for plagues
he could only imagine
some say time heals all wounds
and sure, things had changed
but time had never taken the pain away
nothing did
he mutters, preaching purpose and love
sacrifice and blood
eventually the water reaches his lips
all dialogue becomes internal
"better off this way," he thinks
"i never wanted a child anyway"