Firmly put back in her
place, she wonders, does she know that face,
producing words of
pain and haste,
Depressingly familiar.
Time obscures some
memory, the truth of what had ceased to be,
It lives this act of
cruelty,
Through music.
Does he remember that
they said, “The ending of the book ahead,
The pages turned and
pages read,
We’ll write it”
A taken chance and now
it's done, the truth of what they were, is gone
The battles fought
aren’t battles won,
Just shadows.
This woman here, I
used to know, she falls as she attempts to go,
Still smiling daily,
if as though,
Not broken.
And whilst he’s
breathing through the pain, of all the loss, of secret gain
Outside the gentle summer
rain,
Falls silent.
When did his life
become his plight; a dead man’s walk into the night,
A tortured dream of
dynamite,
Ignited.
Now everything that’s
left unsaid, a fleeting thought, an unmade bed,
A rainbow's end that
empty head,
All broken.
