Intentions lay shattered and scattered about
Now remnants of what could not be
The veil rent asunder, revealing all doubt
And the face we tried hard not to see
The beautiful thistle amidst scores of thorns
Still ****** us, and begs us to bleed
Just as the dreams that we still so adore
Sometimes sprout from the darkest of seeds
When even hope falters, and faith seems a lie
When demons rejoice, and angels doth cry
And every step draws the conclusion much further away
Every tear that resides behind eyes
Far too weary to open upon their demise
Will still succumb to the fall despite their dismay
The death of mortality’s endless charade
Lingers on as the lifeless continue to fade
Far beneath the parading of ghosts who continue to try
The cries of the broken a sweet serenade
Such an effortless potion that swiftly invades
The hearts of those who still refuse to die

The phantom progression of wanting the need
Still continues to tear at the soul
Ignoring the loss and the pain as it feeds
Upon every ounce of control
As the broken rise up from the fathomless ashes
Still screaming, and daring to dream
Holding to hope as it wails and it gnashes
Knowing nothing is all that it seems
While our time slips away with each grain through the glass
Our tears come and go, as the dew on the grass
And the frost of our frozen emotions still flees with the sun
We fall, and we rise, sprouting forth from the seeds
Of our failures and losses, and sweetly we bleed
Our journey through dark disenchantment now scarcely begun
Our every dream has been nearer than far
But none of us know just how close that we are
Until we dare to take just one step more
This thicket of briers now slowing us down
But protects the great beauty of what may be found
To be the very thing worth dying for