What a little place to
Hold such an inestimable thing
Of course, no one cares
If it’s broken
But who’s to say
That they know at all

The irony of it all
That the one thing
That is holding me together
Is tearing me apart
But I’ll stare through a window
And see a monster look back

The road to sanctification is cold
Who’s to say I want it at all?
Such a cold place that

Gets oh so disconsolate
No one’s on the other side of the egress
Why hope for the broken
When no one was there in the first place
Such a bitter taste



That we long for
Of course, how were we to know
What was longed for
Was long dead?

This perfect perfidy
That they have played around us
When we finally learn who’s culpable
It’s already too late
They sit on their thrones
Girths corpulent and altitudinous
As we suffer in silence
At our own expense

We care for our own
And carry on
Leave the world
That broke our souls
Lacerated our hearts

Cicatrized our skin
And carry on