Torn

It hurts so much more than death, We feel it in every breath. So many bruises and tears, Why should we be spared from nightmares? You're asking why this happens, why we live, Us, who should have died, we're captive, This is what it means to regret, To feel such pain we'll never forget. When the sacred is torn from your life, And you survive, it stabs like a knife. There's so much bitterness in tomorrow, Want to let the hatred numb our sorrow. But the walls of pain will open slowly, And one day you will can be free. If hope is born of suffering, Then this is only the beginning. This is what is wake every morning, Yet still feel night, feel ceaseless aching.