A dark patchwork of many different squares
Each square linked to one another by an array of tiny stitches.
The squares tell their own stories of misery, of joy all blended in
A part of a single whole.
So many, many squares all vary from the last.
But still the patchwork darkens, devoid of life's fair light.
It isn't how it's meant to be, too much of all the rest.
Where is the one the matters most, the one who has the final say?
Where is the one who's beauty far outshines the rest?
Without it the patchwork falls apart at the seams
And everything is lost.