Waking each day, each in in its own way
a darkness that never ends
you stare at the light, and it seems far too bright
illuminates what you couldn’t defend
desperate times call for desperate means
raise a glass to your spirits and ghosts
your living has left you split at the seams
as you stand up to offer the toast
You pace through the halls, and stare at the walls
remember her hand on the knife
barely able to walk, you’re reduced to a crawl
and the memories of a wasted life
it all seems to stop, as you count the cost
on your fingers and in your head
nothing was gained, everything lost
there are only the tears that you shed
There is nothing left inside with meaning, hope, or joy
set down, discarded, like a child’s unwanted toy
left tied and chained as an anonymous whipping boy
this is the future
this is your fate
no more the suitor
penitent for her to excommunicate
Waiting each dawn, before the night’s gone
for all dreams to enduringly cease
the sun hits the lawn, and daybreak is drawn
on a face that can never see peace
mouth open wide as you scream to the sky
a silent refrain from your bed
and in your futile voice, you think of the choice
and the very last words that she said
This is the future
this is your fate
no more the suitor
penitent for her to excommunicate
Note: I rather like this although it needs some polishing. I have the keyboard party mostly written. I am hugely indebted to the lyricism of Roger Waters in this piece — a conscious acknowledgement of his influence on me as a writer
