It’s madness – somber, raw and reckless,

The awkward waltz of shadows born

From shallow lines of worry etched on your brow by sadness,

Nightmarish consequences of all those things you’ve sworn.

And still my heart keeps drawing the contours of your mouth,

Untruthful fabrication frozen in stark delight,

Most challenging reminder of my own tale of growth,

A reckless, raw and somber battle I must still fight.