Hymn of the Soul
Clean canvas
Two souls
Exuberant passion
Unrealistic hopes
We painted our canvas with golden strokes,
Shine and shimmer of our smiles,
Our sprightly hands flowing free with care,
Not knowing the pain to come in a while.
Brush after brush. Day after day.
The old paint began to dry.
We covered the old paint and tried to hide it
with brighter gold that was only a lie
Temporary. Temporary. Temporary.
That paint began to build and crack.
Pieces falling from every corner.
Those paint strokes we thought we could cover,
Only left us broken more.
Splattered canvas
No souls
Lost identities
Failed hopes