The Hearts of the Broken (Poem)

This world is so quickly paced
the whirs and blurs of vacant grace
we strive to ever find our place
within such follies here.

And I, in all my faulted woes
fighting, ever fighting blows
where the heart is the spirit goes
within such heartache here.

I scarce can catch another breath
as compassion sighs a lonely death
sin, an addiction worse than meth
within the broken here.

So who will offer us the light
when hell is all that is in sight
our darkness bleeds into the blight
within the broken here.

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