Shame

Old wounds still burn.

She woke into fate and thought,

"Is this all there is?"

And as she moved through bliss

She began to seethe.

Cold touch, cold strain.

So all the soldiers hurried fast

Far past the enemy lines to diffuse

The courage of those in the rebellion

To die over and over and over again.

She wandered through a misty night,

Asking, "Can I rest without a trial?"

And as she trekked through a barren plain

She found she wasn't a child.

Cold touch, cold strain.

But no one questioned, no one turned

They gave way to disgust

Despite the battle surging forth

In those newest to false hope.

She started off one of the concourse

To be slapped into a harsh reality

Where the eutopia came crashing down

To highlight the gross concilliabules

She broke away from the blind, deaf masses

Watching all she knew break away

And set sail in errantry

To find no matter how far she ran

That she would never, ever be free.

Cold touch, cold strain.