Vague Reconstruction

I pour myself out into this dead wood, why?
Tears to be and tears to cry
Meaningless verbs meaning we should.
Should have and never would have been.

And what is this?
What of this?

We are passing and fading into this endless void,
streams of crimson life emptying
repeating an endless cycle
reminiscing of what it means to live and lie.

Red skies,
dark clouds,
bleeding eyes
and this proud clod.

I give you this hand and this lie
holding back my hand while watching life
and everything just fall into order
and everyone is hoping for something better.

We're all hoping for the best
and we'll be passed over
when the time comes
pain flows and it feels like a test
but really all we have is each other
and it never was enough.

Enough, enough.
We say these words with vain repetition
not realizing the hope we hold in hand
and the mindless self indulging it takes
to hold onto hope at night.
Holding on while loosing blood,
loosing self and making this mistake
mistaking it as being chronically okay
to believe in mediocrity.

Battered shell holding hope,
it stands and remains.
No broken sword
or swollen vessel bursting
can remove this shining glimmer,
this burning fragment
holding up your soul.

The problem has always been choice
and this matter is no different.
But by differential digression
we've arrived here.
Enough of this charade
and enough of clutching this pity
and sardonically embracing pain.

I bring this burnt husk to you
asking to be healed.
Reminiscent of bird songs
and the hope of blue skies.
True I have always been unfaithful,
mine has been the life of deception
the mask of Judas.
But here we stand,
two hearts and souls entwined.
My First Love as has been before time,
before this crime
before my fallacy
and the decay of my soul.
You loved me, just loved me.

Take this battered and broken soul
held in this hollow husk.
Make of it what You will,
craft as only You might.
Make of it as You will
for Your love outlives my darkest night.