Her purity is beyond my ken
Afflicted are the hearts of men
Truth and blood mix in my pen
Please, don’t let me fall again

The sorrow we display reflects the sympathy we have, and reflects the shattered vision of a world we will yet have. Our despair is the inverted image of our nobility.

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

we were screaming
then there was silence
unsure of which was worse