The Day of Youth

As the sun shone violently through the morning trees

We found the words on a snippet of paper

"Lament the death of God, He does not return"

Like a spark across the floor of the abattoir

So it fell to us, and so we returned

To find our childhood dwindling

So fast

And we built a bonfire of our wreckage

Argued over who was to do what

Or what any of it meant

We relented, and we leaned to love

To such cursory avail

Our minds had already been stolen

And so we fought

For the good directly in front of us.

Whatever it was we saw

Even when it became no good

We fought

For the light foundering

Off the shores of our own confidence

We fought

Until I was you

And you were me