Folded arms like marshes drained and loathing like a muscle strain . harbored sheen like sparkles gained. To froth as burns the august rain. The mud like drudges furrowing. Shame like wishes without Gain. The soulless writhing, shuddering. Beauty like stars in your eyes through sadness, my effort a warped bough splintered beyond madness. and there is hope they dance in the wind, oh there it's hope so lovely again