Emaciated Souls...

Today we feel the crushing weight

of broken lives and buried pain

the thorns and lies we’ve held inside

and the emptiness we’ve tried to hide

We take our fill and medicate

and tell ourselves it’s all a game

till we’ve justified anything...

So burn the books and break the frame

gag our souls and hide away

dine on noise, regurgitate

kill silence lest we feel shame,

deep wounds, and hollowed, tender hurts

forget that life is more than mirth...

Until it wears itself away

and all we have is ourselves to face:

The barest beat of emaciated hearts

awaits another fall

we bear our emaciated souls

each upon the pall

and if you look into our eyes

you’ll find

everything dissatisfies.

With eyes cast down lest others see

the tales they tell and tears they bleed,

we tell our lie and say we’re fine

but our wounded heart lies left behind

We put our hope in empty things

in gilded masks and passing dreams

though under all the gold, fear reigns as king

So strike our breasts, wait and see

if our emaciated hearts take up the beat

Bear the pain, ignore the threat;

will our emaciated souls take their last breath?

Then look into our veiled eyes

peer behind the screen of lies:

we still long for what will satisfy.

Shall we reach into that which we fear

to find ourselves not in a mirror

but as we really truly are

the open sores and bleeding scars

the clawing marks which show our part

the anguished din inside our hearts

for grasping after shallow, pale pleasure

in the stead of joy beyond all measure

Is emaciation form for our flesh,

this emaciation our soul's true best?

Are our eyes to see eternal loss

no return for everlasting cost?

Or shall we step at last into the silence,

nor run from it in fear of violence

done upon our already broken hearts

silence having been tasked to carve

the suffering before we heal, price already paid,

for firstly every heart must break

for it to be remade.