Behind the fortune waiting in the dark
the pulsing choice to enter such as I
with bold intentions crushing in how stark
a pulmonary lapse brings fear to die
Regretting as we do our future held
for words cannot retain the feel of heart
with time and apathy all things do meld
the end is not all separate from the start
A shrieking comes from deep within these walls
a sound not heard but all to often felt
with crashing as the pretense casually falls
just as the press of truth begins to melt
Fortuitous and fleeting on the landing
embark upon the settling of new shores
to find us close eyed, bend and always standing
scarring where we fell to biting lures
In the dimming of the daily lighting
feckless as we are resisting change
only when the movement comes to fighting
only when we tighten on our range
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