Amongst the despair of yesterday
and the anticipation of wounds yet to be inflicted
to lust after forbidden things
while wallowing in self loathing
to watch the dreams of the innocent
become enveloped with shades of guilt
for the comfort of lingering memories
is overcome with the apparent shadow of empty pretenses
the disguises once so quick to conceal
no longer hide anything...
Our embittered souls cry out for
A Transfusion of Hope
