We ply our trade pretending that we matter
avoiding death, prophecy much sooner than the latter
our hearts on sleeves, and feelings held up high
another love is born, but eventually, must die

We push on through the storm, praying to see another day
wishing all our problems, and faults won't get in the way
every breath we breathe leading unto the next
hoping that one day our spirits, souls, are fixed

Broken down and leaking love as water
unforgiving self, allowing us, no quarter
confidence, self worth, always set to falter 
used and riven, sacrificed, at love's
****** altar