Our tormented souls

Twisted and distorted in so many ways

As if writhing over hot coals

Will we ever be so until the end of our days?

 

 

Here’s the deal

For those broken on the wheel

Thoughts frozen in time

The fare costs you a dime

To cross the river

That makes you quiver

Whither there is no return

All around you seems to burn

A very high cost

Those opportunities lost

What was valued in the past

Did not last

Get it through your head

You are dead

You recall when you wed

That makes you see red

But it is too late

To cling to your hate

Condemned now to haunt the coast

As a lonely ghost

On dark nights you appear as a wispy spectre

Who was once named Hector

 

 

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