There’s a spark inside you, a spark that caught
hold of a wick in the dark of your heart
tied to the wrist of mistakes and of naught
sisters of woe, siblings kept apart.
It sings hopeful notes to desperate ears
a haunting, erubescent flame of lust
singed by the goodbyes and hellos of forged fears
now disjointed silhouettes in dust.
Nuclear kisses to a plastic backbone
a moralist change of heartfelt failure
paleness found in the face of danger shown
in the light of a belated savior.
The spark went out at the height of it all,
as if fate fell short of a timeless fall.