I feel the warm droplets of your red,
As you lay before me un- engaged,
Your body slowly decreases.
I saw the signs long ago,
That our chance for triumph was slight.
Yet, still I bleed.
And still, I pray in hopes that your pulses will rise strong again.
Even though resiliency and breath is absent,
My heart can only surrender to itself,
And those who wish to claim it.
For there lie victories all around us,
Waiting to be sung and celebrated.
These deficiencies are great,
And further hinder our ability to cross the river before us.
For the water is too deep,
And the time has carried on leading us to a new kind of thinking.
In our darkest hours we choose to lay awake with only memories,
Instead of pleasures.
For we have lost our maps,
And our voice.