The Burden of Almost - Dirge

Mother of all dreams

Glints sway in the breeze

Comet tails trail ripped sails

Ideals pale and frail

Columns to spear the dome

But streets are paved with mold

Head nods in silence

As entrails shout behind lowered eyes

Chasing cherished shades

Building walls and ruins

Looking down from barricades

The brothers we could have been

But we’re just lone soldiers

Against the world, against the wind

I can’t give way to dust

And jail ghosts in the womb

Too crestfallen, too lost

To besiege your wounds

So tired of this almost

I won’t adorn your gloom