So much for the weary end
And all the hurt it takes to begin.
So much for the last one in,
Shedding tears; being lost in sin.
No more time to bathe in guilt,
Allow the days to bathe you in gilt,
And the sun to pour into the fragments,
Stir the blood you kept so stagnant.
If mankind were to know
How wonderful days
Begin to show.
Would the predicament
be reluctant
to rear it's ugly head.
Perhaps not,
Nor would it mean anything.
You can finally be something.
Mankind, the sublime!
Is the right mind
Ever focused in metric time
Measured by the underestimated
Sentience of a life
Slowly drifting by?
Could you be the one in all
At the ending call
With no worth on your forehead?
No love to be said
Because the sun wouldn't show?
Any heavy-hearted man could understand.
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