A few words remain not mentioned about you and I.
In a life far from unblemished and certainly not focused
We let it slip beyond the boundaries, wither and die.
As with a famine caused by confusion and crafty locusts
That tore at the flesh of our tarnished pride
To leave nothing but shells of who we were
Screaming injustice and asking supporters to take a side
Between the myopic misery and a memory sour and blur.
This bitterness breaks us both
And sees the life left over now in living decay and dust
And hollow with its heartfelt history
Of all that we had, all that friendship and growth
Now lies with our backs against each other in mistrust
And deliberating how we do decipher the mystery.
Ian D. HallÂ