LOST SOULS
"A cut or two; none too deep" A bleed, a tear
None wasted
For erstwhile, our hands, we smear
With hope. Lie blasted At the doors of truth and
Faith holds not a stare
Wherewith in Hope's hand
We seem to bare Our trust, our love
Now lost in lust
Shrivelled up in the grove
Of seductive busts Of fee