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by Not Bulletproof Oct 9, 2011
Sadness, depression /
It's the dawn of the day we surrendered;
forever lost in time's old vaults.
A historian of heartache;
a lot of previous assaults.
Trying to remember the cracks,
and what decade they first formed.
Wondering when it became war,
and when the gates were stormed.
The lights went out quickly,
but we were fast to fight in the dark.
Striking out at each opportunity;
grasping at straws to save the heart.
Victorious warriors at times,
diplomatic king and queen,
we've been predator and prey,
and all along, we've been mean.
The piano played our song,
we danced the devil's dance.
There was no God to help us,
poor God, he had no chance.
The sun peaked the sky;
a graceful ray of lights.
Blessed be this field
that watches as we fight.
This old city burned itself down,
all the walls had begun to fall,
the townspeople were evacuated
Voted that at the town hall.
When all was said and done,
both fighters; down and out.
In history, there's always a winner,
but not here; no one can gloat.
It's the end of the day we surrendered;
forever forbidden to enter thought.
A shallow memory to fight back;
a memory of a time to be forgot.Sarah Gammon Â©
Thank you for reading.