So, this is the impossible thing
that I have asked of you.
Never said anything we ever did
was going to be very easy.
You’ve been clinging to your life,
like you think that you need it,
but you look the other way
every time you have to live,
as if every day
were the cold, corpse hands
of a painful memory.
You can’t seem
to open your eyes to see
past the enemies
you have made up
to haunt you,
every time you dream.
I can’t fight them for you;
maybe it’s time
to admit defeat.
Sometimes we have to lose
our minds,
our lives.
Holding the world in a bitter stalemate
might equate
to some kind of existence,
but it’s not one I would want to live.
I don’t think it’s kind, or healthy;
that war of attrition
nobody’s going to win.
It’s a plane crash
in slow motion.
So, you’re gonna have to lose,
if you want to win.
You’ll have to admit defeat
and then we’ll
start over again,
because I can’t fight for you
and against you there’s no end;
just a forever war.
So now you’ll have to do
what you’ve never done before.
One
impossible thing.
Losing to win.
Letting go
to gain control.
I want you to die
and come back to life.
Travel through
that never ending hollow.
Be born again
and made new;
this is all I ask of you.
One
impossible thing;
I think it’s the least that you could do.
HG – 2017