Fickle

Acidic stepping stones wash away the footprints
from a yesterday's cruel encounter
of broken promises and used up lies
sinking into the depths of the waters enveloping
carried away tears inside

Yesteryears collide with a reawakening
of lessons yet to be learned for the taking
And her inner voice shrieks with indecencies,
picking and choosing which paths to be destroyed
whilst the wheel turns the tides

Therapeutic rhymes sing the songs of heartache,
living for the dreams of the laughter once carried
through the days and long hours of nights
Scribblings in the diary of forsaken love hides
messages of ruin and decay within the folds

And knowing that the past is irreversible,
there is only one thing left to so on this road
The avalanche blocks the path backwards,
and time is not on our side in these quarters
Stand up, shake it off, and move forward

Clutching hands tighten their grip on the heart,
where so many mixed emotions crash like waves
into the sands of rocky beaches abused, marking
well lived grounds and misunderstandings
of what is right, and what is out of hand

The child sings and the call summons the wild,
feeding off of the energy of embedded beliefs
Mother's hand pulls back and loosens the grip,
the spiral of sorrow enveloping her body
in a cyclone of faults and underlying regrets

Yet the crash of the sea spawn of sapphire
brightens and darkens from mystic azure,
to mingling iron ash, setting aflame to hopes
that were once everlasting with promises
of forever and a minute now long torn to shreds

And then...we all realize that the blistering
blood of the flesh never fully heals with an apology,
and we can't always change everything to suit another
The loveless eyes of those beautiful skies
clouded over with the disguise of turmoil lies

Truth and love seem to be such fickle things lately