For waves the sea recedes and rocks that mark its bed,
One sees where sand lets go of another ones dread.
In swelling, falling, crashing, rising, each one tells of the others end.
In vain they argue, a discord of water and sand,
Their frigid spectators, the cliffs behind and the vigilant land.
Such steep demands, the sand tolerates no tribute,
Endlessly dancing in rebellion, they inevitably convolute.
A calling unto deep dreams, musings.
A thought in the past consuming.
No profit gained but still they search for this.
Unforseen consequence transpires.
Everyone here who has conspired
Loses what little left they had of ignorant bliss.
Yet bliss they never meant to hold,
Ignorance they meant to banish so,
Cast aside was their selfish bliss and painful knowledge ensued.
To prepare for the future and learn from the past.
Where others seeks what rust, we what lasts,
With what moths cannot eat nor thieves steal, we’re imbrued.
A single tear from her soul only
Comes softly with the words “Just hold me”.
That cold summer, drifting, lonely.
I don’t remember what it was that came before.
Preceeding the darkened night,
Being a requiem to a hopeful twilight,
An angels song; a bewitching blight,
Does nothing to lift her from the floor.
There is a silence after her song.
There is the light before the dawn!
There is the hope that she’s forgotten!
These are the dreams that once were trodden.
She survives because she endures.
Now of one thing she’s sure:
Her hopes and dreams are worth the gain,
Worth the work, and all the pain.
She sees darkness itself is to blame,
Her souls tear, an angels song, the same.