The Wilting Heart
Inactions leading to thought
The search for what you wrought
A question of who you are
Answered blind because you bought
Small comfort in ignorance
Actions fade into dissidence
Numb comfort in denial
You can’t make out the mirror in the distance
Locking the hero in his cell
Hiding friends’ faces down a well
Sacrifice does not exist
As your reality turns to hell
Out-buying the loneliness
Buying respect
Selling your prisoner
Bidding on hatred and dread
Come to reality
Come to the guilt
It does not exist
There’s just a flower that wilts
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