and there is darkness once again in this place
of the gentle strum of a broken guitar
and the old crumbling walls that surround us
eager to give in
and let the ceiling ripple
crashing like giant waves
on a bright beach's shore
but we escape
from all these things birthed from ruin
and the tenderness of a warm hand
we escape
each fragmented laugh that echo the halls
and the days etched into the earth
we escape
and leave our souls behind
one piece at a time
and plant it into the soil
hoping it could grow and flourish
in this dark place.