Here we sit,
And laugh in the face of our past destruction,
And pass around ways of foolproof seduction,
Look back, why bother with what has met its` end,
So we find our method and we further search for answers,
But when will necessary correction be recognized,
Or the fabric of our words go untestified against,
What shall it take for us to vision,
A peaceful place without harm or admission,
A resting place to soothe our wounds,
Resultant from the unloyal wrath of our ever-repeating, haunted pasts.
