The Bridge
A singular train
Southbound always
Truth runs away
As the memory fades
A time so short
Held so much for two
But broken and lost
Both adrift in the blue
A dismal, deep wood
Hides the paths of each body
Wandering and weary
Lost in the melancholy
Thorns and thickets cut deep
Wounds that won’t heal
Even alone and forgotten
And with no blood to congeal
Dead and alone with cores evermore deficient
Only the light of the other
Can alter their temperament
Their paths through the dreary, foggy, and bleak
Gave way to a clearing
Past an amber rank creek
Over the bridge they both went
And gone from those eyes
Was the vacant and dead
Look of demise
Petrified limbs again bend
And hearts shriveled and small
Wake fast – beats begin