When your knees are bloody and your back is broken, what or who do you turn to?

If the skies fell today, who’d cover your head?

In despair and disarray

The days of dark seem to outweigh the light that we so desire

It is with much disappointment, more despair and disarray that we bend

We bend

We break

We bend again trying to mend

 

When your knees are bloody and your back is broken, who or what do you turn to?

If the earth opened wide and sucked you in alive, would you fly to the heavens or fall to the pits of hell?

In despair and disarray

We wipe our tears; we hold our hearts; we detest the hurt that seems far too common

The ending has been written yet we remain hopeful that the journey there is less painful

We bend

We break

We bend again trying to mend

 

When you heart becomes curdled and your eyes blind to what is

Where do you go?

If the love no longer believes in its own possibilities, how do you live with self?

We hold our hearts closer and trust the outside even less because the past tells us what is safe

We bend

We break

We bend again trying to mend

 

When value remains on the possibility of change, but the change remains austere, what new value do you create to cope?

Is there new value to be gained or lost in the dust and crevices of all the ills?

How do we clean the blood from our knees and our hearts?

How do we heal the broken backs and when done, which way do we turn?

The desired light remains vigilant in our hearts

The ending has been written and the hope for love

We bend

We break

We bend again trying to mend