Let loose the film of past
that runs passed eyes of a folded cast
a blindfold to purpose trashed
forget self, to be without the burden of contrast
for all the kings horses trample bricks of what couldn't last
of when hope is less then bullets shelled to souls smashed
of hearts lashed beyond the crash, a bloody blast
to our mind-filled rafts that drift upon seas that wave steadfast
mirror faith greeting tribulations of our drowning past
is how we learn to breathe, unabashed.