Out of Sight

What tears can redeem a broken past?

What memory can seal a broken lass?

what more can be upheld if nothing is the same?

when the past is lived as the present, with joy as pain.

With love that is water yet anger that is as evaporating heat

i see now it never sleeps

calm are only the stares of hate that pierce the soul

following them murderous words that wish me could

I look at all the matter with me and see soon

i will have no place, no case. fatigued; unable to pic up the pace

softly beating heart all to well understood

as my presence causes more bad than good

dear author, know that you are as old candy

unpleasant to eyes and a taste that no one fancies

time is cruel but crueler are the words of your lass,

for she already considers you part of her past

of perhaps much worse could be said

for it may even be that in her eyes you are already dead.