Art By Numbers
Venice Is Sinking
Don't be so certain of what's left at handI'm tearing up every pageSo eloquently put but misconstruedWe never stood a chanceWaiting on others to finally discoverIt's just an empty space that binds usTo the world, to everything we've ever asked for ourselvesOur promises best unkept have already found usAnd all the while we still claimed sanityThese lasting words took the best of us and tore our lives apartMy final fear was the first of every choice that I regretLife takes away all the rest of what had given clarityToo late, never replace what's left, it's all taken for grantedI won't underestimate the damageSo far, everything is unappealingAnd all I feel is that the worst to come is right around the bendMy only hope is to reverse what's done and suffer consequenceThis is more than a just rewardThis is more than I bargained forThis is more than what I thought was in store
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