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For you I ache and fall apart,
For you I tend these tender scars, For you I hope the stars will shine While I lie in dust upon the stairs.
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Here it comes, young man
Clouds on every horizon, A fire burning bright into the long night. We waged war on our heroes, Dug graves for our ghosts, Sneaked love into tents as though We had forgotten the lessons Our mother taught us Over this timid plate of hors-d'œuvre. Tally the falling giant upon the stones Where we once built a wall to obfuscate glory, Dismembered parts levy the starved and hungry, Equal among us are the stomachs that remember this fate. ~ ~ ~ Are we old enough to harbour the wisdom of age, See through the soft glaze Appropriating kindness on a stage? Can we forgive our sins when all is remembered, Chipping away at our present state And ushering in the endgame? See that smoke rising, Bristling with static energy, Coalescing with storms and anger, Birthing the new frontier. Frustration mates with the enemy And gives conception to holiness and penalties. In this hour, In this day, In this year I hear you say: Lay your bones down now upon this hallowed ground.
This beautiful life
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