What's the next best thing to a heart that sings....?
It's one that screams in pain.
At the rise of sun, new life's begun,
but time won't fade these stains.
My hands have rent and ravaged, wrecked,
lives and loves and minds.
But souls of old and young have come,
and went all in their time.
So mine rewinds to spy the line
and intersects thereof.
Because this stage 'pon which we play,
from light, one day, shall fade.