This, an Ancient Song:

...Forget the rose petals,

leave behind the wine;

the lace and lies are on the ground;

we've forgotten what this truly is -

we've dolled this up pretty,

made it common and casual

This has been made pathetic and 'emo'

We've slandered it

We're out of touch,

we've forgotten what we long for

This has begun to mean so many things

that all at once this means nothing;

Just another empty, hollow verse

of an ancient song

The melody has become chained,

the rhythm a wet slapping of flesh;

The notes, once so precious, so laudable -

perhaps even holy, now just screaming refuse;

But this still just as frightening, overwhelming -

majestic as this was when this was lauded...

Perhaps it's not that this has become meaningless,

perhaps, we have

Never forget that this is too fierce a foe to conquer,

This will conquer you -

dazzle your eyes, seduce your heart, war with your mind,

This will shatter your very soul, heal you, save you,

make you who and what you're to be,

This will be the dagger through you you're certain will kill you,

the face you can't forget, the skin next to yours,

the hand you're holding, the song you can't stop singing,

the truth, the lies, the trust, the guilt,

the breaking of your silent legacy,

This will be the thing that keeps you up at night,

the thing that haunts you, this will be your bond,

your pain, the handful of dandelions on a summer afternoon,

the kiss on the forehead, the breath on your neck,

This will be the screaming agony that begins one late night

and never stops;

This will be a bridge, a crossroads, an ending and a beginning

This is lines you can't rewrite, the bleeding of your heart,

the compassion of your soul, the change you crave

A wound and a salve, a lie and the brutal truth,

a hug and a swift kick in the ass, getting caught and crashing on your face,

A picture you frame and a picture you burn, a wedding and a funeral,

beautiful art and a pile of rubble, sweltering summer and frozen winter;

A giggle and a sob, pain and pleasure,

bitter and sweet, hope and defeat,

whore and virgin, blind and sighted;

War and peace, cradle and grave...