We are the forgotten children,
The ones who made mistakes.
We are the ones who try to set right,
What it is we have done wrong.
They are those that fight.
Longing for release,
Yet seemingly unable to listen when we say
“I was wrong.”
The globe spins,
’round and ’round.
I try and stand against it,
Yet I fight more than just space.
How, or why?
What happened?
When? and Who crossed who?
I am in part the cause of all destruction.
In this valley,
I see eagles circling.
For this prey is far too good
To leave for vultures.
What storm clouds that gather,
Those stars that collide,
Further to spread the beach sand,
Causing further irritation - I stand in their way.
Mere weather shall not stand in my way.
I have a goal, a journey to follow.
While it’s not been unscathed,
Blacked and hollowed, I must still fight on.
They are those who lie on the beach.
Knowing the cost, but hoping for naught.
I am the water that falls from the sky.
Trying to wash the sand away, for the time is high.
Serenity will soon come,
Hopefully the cost not too high.
For it is the day that we ask to say:
“We were wrong.”