What Is Lost
Is the joy of life.
Sucked out by the past,
by the present.
Your eyes are ice,
same as the soul.
I need to fix it.
To show you that life
is not all bad.
To take joy in the now,
to learn from the later.
Should I though?
Do I have the right?
Yes, yes I do.
Right now, I will grasp
your gloved hand and force
you to the ocean shore
to learn the joy in life,
push the love
back into the soul; eyes.
All to say what is lost
is the bitter ice.