Hopeless

A primary dream
Of secondary beings
What say you
In the face of run down things
Do you look at them
Straight in the eye
Till a soul opens wide
And you are consumed
By the glory, the tragic power
Of the things broken.
Are you consumed by the knowledge
Of the point
Where he became she became things
In the outside sun I stand and wonder
Where are we
And what of the things

*needs editing.