Sinners Waltz
In this vast void of existence, we stand,
Hearts bleeding out, met with the back of a hand.
Alone we stagger in life's endless night,
Chasing shadows, devoid of respite.
We drift, lifeless shells, in an aimless march,
Haunted by silence, under heaven's starched arch.
Bound by ancestral chains, heavy and severe,
I ache for release, for the end to draw near.
We're tethered to a world that cares not for our strain,
Our essence cast into the void, our struggles in vain.
Directionless, we flounder between high and nether,
In life's cruel jest, peace is a tethered feather.
His crown, a distant whisper of hope’s demise,
In its absence, our worth under leaden skies.
I'd embrace the void for a sliver of right,
Than bask in the hollow glow of the commonplace light.
For in the pursuit of that elusive spark,
I find solace in the embrace of the dark.
A sinner's waltz, a hollow, echoing song,
In the dance of despair, is where we belong.
Copyright ©
Trent Vecchiarino
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