Tempered Circles
Burning with the flames of past exchange
An interwoven thought with new distaste
Shadows ever dancing with our remains
A new-found hate for what we face
Washed up by the tides of endless grief
Now everything is gone, replaced by need
And now we understand the sea of greed
A new-found hate for our disease
Frozen by the loss of when we tried
Even though we know no compromise
Who is there to blame when fear decides?
A new-found hate for all their lies
Melted by the sight of her command
I justify my heart and take her hand
Another lovely tale that turns to sand
A new-found hate for where I am
Burning with the flames of past exchange
Another stupid end that has me taste
The circle of my bitter hate
Tempered by the thoughts that I remain
Spinning in a circle of my own blame
The circle of my weathered pain
Copyright © Ian Petch | Year Posted 2007
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