We Who Were

You'd rather fall on your sword than read the last page.
With the earth full of ground, you've nowhere to stand.
We who were.
We who used to be.

You've nails for your fingers, but nothing to hold.
With a well full of water and no cup or rope.
We who were.
We who used to be.

Your voice strong and willing, but no ear to hear.
Eyes clear and ready with nothing left to see.
We who were.
We who used to be.

You've built a mountain of waste, stranded at the top.
Air through your lungs, falling cold among its foe.
We who were.
We who used to be.

Bones stacked within your ravaged, thirsty skin,
Praying for relief, stinging from a constant climb.
We who were.
We who used to be.

Lips traveled by so many harsh, empty words,
Cast as heavy stones into an endless, lifeless pond.
We who were.
We who used to be.

You, still abandoned at the moment of relief,
Staggering, bent by a single, selfish armament.
We who were.
We who used to be.

Ruined at the bottom of a liberating pyre,
Unburned and unchanged, rotting from denial.
We who were.
We who used to be.