At the front line, where backs are
Firmly stack against walls, that hot
Transmitting the burning coals of larva
From the bosom of dejected dissolution
Deep beneath the heart's crust knocking
With increased temperature, in temperament
Of the heat, in trepidation gushing up
As time passes by, like street lights so fast
Distancing, one from dreams with stretch
With age count, adding burden of guilt on lost hope
Like the gas filled cylinder left out cold
Awaiting sparks, just a single spark, for its day
To burn, combust, with might in the light
Showing its glory, showing its all
As given to proclaim as destiny to be
Yet slowly, increasingly, widening
This hatch, hole of opening enigma,
Escapes hope, from an opening
Sucks out, leaks and dilute with air
The essence of once so defined
Taking forms of deflated objects, wrinkled
What do you do son, what do you do
To keep from drowning souls
As once so care free, a spirit trapped in cages
Today we will pour libations, it is needed
Laugh and mock life and dreams had
Tomorrow we will saddle up, back chasing that dream