The Fight

We cradle a broken vision a broken ideal, a broken heart when it’s done. Then nothing but silence.

 Like the sunlight wafts through the trees
 it comes on naturally
 The fighting begins and continues
 like the fluttering of leaves.
 It’s music almost
 to the untrained ear
 this chaos of sounds
 of negative thoughts and energies
 that have no bounds.
 Almost beautiful too
 until I take big bites
 I cannot even chew.
 Swallowing hard it creeps up
 then explodes
 all these happy memories of us
 dissipate and are gone.
 Forgotten under the guise
 of who was right and who was wrong.
 We cradle a broken vision
 a broken ideal, 
 a broken heart
 when it’s done.
 Then nothing
 but silence.
 A tear is shed perhaps
 Who can tell?
 But one look from one or the other
 allows what really happened to be revealed.