Our Everything…

When there is nothing left to give,
no more fuel added to the fire,
empty no more gas in the tank,
when exhausted is the default setting,
we’re running this road under moonlight,
those prayers that gave us our wings,
all time is running fast in slow motion,
hurtels like a madman never stopping,
forced to bend feeling knotted half broken,
looking around to gather up hopes again,
this war it never ends never in it’s roar,
bloody bullets and pens crossing,
this scar from these battles royal,
wounded knees a metaphor cuts,
busted or broken still we’re hanging on,
offering up that last breath all of ours,
gasping those stolen moments sighed,
captive or free everything unshackled,
holy bloody trenches of the dead,
known strewn over surreal lands,
wasted fields unseeded dreams all fled,
time is a sweeping gale force reaper,
cutting us all down eventually,
smiling all we’ve given is our everything.

All comments and thoughts gratefully received by the Count.

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