If you think of those who are left for dead
Their tales and lies, things yet unsaid
Their thoughts are words that are left unread
Their soul will never breathe
Lost in the stories that we create
And all these things played out by hate
Our dancing light stolen by fate
By a world that will never see
In the darkness and the dust
The truths are there but left to rust
Webs and shadows feed their lust
For the cavern that was me
Too many times we mumble soft
And whisper things better sent aloft
For fear of our being nor but a waft
In this faceless sea
We have once chance left to behold
And make sure our legends will be told
To live a life that won't grow old
If we our own hero be
Tear off the mask and dorn the crown
And create til others gather round
Until you breathe your story full of sound
And teach new eyes to see.
-kg 2013
