Dwell

There you are just standing around,
Hands in your pockets, eyes on the ground
As if they hammered you to what could’ve been
A matchless heat, a bosom friend.
Open wounds pierced by the flame,
Sizzling down the youthful frame.
To imagine is to believe that all is well
In a world mimicking a gruesome hell.
I steal one last glance at you,
All closed off and out of tune.
How long did they forge you and wait
For your walls to crumble and break?

Once lonely and discreet,
I now stand on my own two feet,
With my hands in my pockets, my eyes to the ground,
Are these scars enough for me to drown?

Yet every crack must shed some light
Even in this dark world which dims all that’s bright
To imagine is to believe that all will be well.
In this Hope we will forever dwell.