What we are made of

Asked for a little time, 
and how bruised we got, all bryne.
They nodded in agreement, 
and enquired would later do? 
Heart on verge of rot, 
lips murmured sure, why not. 
Have already waited some, 
couldn’t we string for just a little more?

The later came and went, 
bloody eyes changed seasons rampant
For them, the later never came, 
maybe for creatures as we, no warmth lives? 
The want was just simple words, 
to share and to listen with wavering chords. 
But in that small little later, 
did we understand what the inside already knew?

We howled and oh the scream,
to the outside world we were mute with dream. 
The curve of the face hid plenty, 
how did they not see what they did to us? 
In the end, it was the head which consoled,
cemented laments into the nerve fold. 
Stared at our shadows with a single accusation, 
how weak have we become?  

Brushed the treachery away, we did, 
cleaned the needs, and its seed. 
Picked up that face and heavy lid, 
how can we not help ourselves indeed? 
They are none to us, 
as its not a mountain of a loss. 
We pray they remain heavenly, 
for if not us, who else would pray for the likes of thee?