The surviving

THE SURVIVING

Every dark passage
And every step we don’t clearly see
Sends us this morose message
That will never get to thee

Every criticism so true
And every candle whose wick is spent
Reminds us of that unattainable lore
And every secret silently pent

Every languid hope
And lonely, weeping dale
Is the executioners rope
Fastened around the neck of the pale

Every child of confusion
And every day in years
Brings with it fears intrusion
A listless angel drinks my tears

Every light we set out to see
And every law we fasten to our neck
Is one more thing we have to believe
And one more visitor to our forlorn wreck

Every despondent hero
And every wasted whore
Is sure to reflect in the mirror
An innate need for a little succor

Even Idun, little goddess of spring
Can lend a little solace
If not just the light and meadow ring
At least her touch is flawless

And let every sorry intruder
And cold and protective panoply
Lend lore and wisdom to the silent wanderer
And a pearl colored heart to show how we try

Every dream in placid sleep
And in every pink scar’s trace
Is a heart so crimson and deep
Is the surviving running their race